All For One
by Feathery-Dreamer
Summary: Noticing his first friend acting oddly, Gwaine takes it upon himself to make Merlin smile, anyway he could. Join Gwaine and Merlin as they make the most of their time until work and destiny catches up in the form of a curse, forcing a king, a knight and a dragon to save Camelot's secret protector. -No slash and eventual reveal- Rated T just to be safe. -new title-
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin, mearly the eventual villain**

**There will not be any slash in this fic, be warned. Lots of bromance thought. **

**This fic is not beta-ed - is that even a word?- so excuse any errors you see! **

* * *

**Prologue**

He sat there staring at the fire burning brightly in the night. Much like him in reality: alive and shining when only shadows are cast but, ignored when the bright sun is out. He didn't mind living behind the darkness, living like Arthur's shadow, never to be acknowledge for his contribution in his prosperous kingdom. He didn't want the glory, as tempting and as lovely as it had sounded in the beginning. As the years passed, he simply wanted to be truthful. To stop hiding what he is, constantly showing only halves of himself.

He was many things, the faithful friend, the clumsy servant, the wise man, the fool, the coward, the brave, the humble man, a peasant, a warlock... He was Merlin and he was Emrys. He was every one of those and yet sometimes he thought he was none of those, sometimes he did not know who he really was. Perhaps, he had lost himself in the half-truths and lies he said along the years.

One day he would come clean, but when will that be. Would it come in his terms, or will he be force to reveal it, and _when_ it does come, because he's not sure he could bear it if it would never come. Maybe, he could bear it, and he was simply saying this because he couldn't admit that it would be easier if they never knew, but he digressed, how would they react? So many things have happened that would make them never understand the beauty of magic. So many things that made it seem like a tool of destruction in lieu of a tool of many uses.

It can be destructive, fearful and dangerous, but it can be beautiful, passionate, awe aspiring and so innocent. "Just like fire" he murmured, each word punctuated by puffs of breath. You can kill with fire and you can use it to light a hearth. Dark and light, there is nothing without those two sides...

He sighed, he knew it was not the magic that would bother his friends, it was the deception, or rather the lack of faith _in_ them. He did not want to lose their friendship; he did not want to see the betrayal in their eyes.

He knew waiting made it worse. It made it harder to say the truth, harder to be open and easier to lie, to hide, to act as he was expected. Excuses, a never ending cycle of it, that never failed to convince him, one after the other, and for what? It was comprehensible in Uther's reign but not in this one. This time, it was to save him from the emotional pain. He expected banishment and some sort of change between their dynamics and maybe that was it. Maybe that was all it was.

His eyes, once clear as clear as the ocean, were now dark, as he gazed at the sleeping knights and king.

"One day, but not today..." he whispered a broken promise for the starts to hear.

Merlin stood up and stretched his arm above his head, and winced at the popping sounds his shoulder made. That was enough brooding for one night and he figured he'd cross that bridge when he would.

He smiled lightly, for all his mental complaining about hidden identities and its woes, he was genuinely happy. Sometimes though, trudging up a smile felt like a weight. He did laugh a lot though when he bantered with Arthur's and at Gwaine's antics after all.

Craning his neck, he looked at the moon and saw it at its peak. His shift was over and he would finally rest and leave all what transpired today behind, or at least at the back of his mind.

Merlin unconsciously widened his smile as he pondered on the way he should wake up Gwaine. After everything, he thought he deserved a good laugh. The scowling roguish knight was sprawled in his cot, mumbling of things, he was not sure he wanted to know. Though he thought he heard the words attempt, virtue and... Merlin- "Merlin!?"- as he approached him.

He promptly froze, hovering in front of the knight's body, looking very much like a startled deer. Let it be known that Merlin very much liked his virtue Gwain-less and those three words in separate sentences. Perhaps that's why he looked so...displeased?

He shuddered slightly as he pictured- "No! Not happening and oh no he's waking up and I don't want to know!" - eyes darted around the camp to look for something, anything to knock his friend out. Spotting the unwashed cooking pot, he tried to reach to it but was stopped by a hand grabbing his wrist.

Bleary eyes locked on his very pale face, which was now sporting a familiar, albeit, nervous smile.

"What...Merlin, did you come save me?" he asked relief shining through his obviously sleepy eyes.

"Save you from what...exactly?" the sorcerer prodded slowly, his own relief slightly hesitant to grow.

Suddenly Gwaine sat up, released his wrist and chose to clasp his hands on Merlin's shoulder and squeezed lightly. The brunet inched his face closer to Merlin and stared into his eyes with intense madness. He loved Gwaine like a brother, but right now he wasn't too sure.

"...Believe me Merlin, when I say all of it was an accident and isn't it a bit harsh to punish me like that?" he said in a rush. At Merlin's confused stare, Gwaine rambled on readily.

"I mean even for Arthur that's pretty cruel, it was just a prank really, and my virtue is not for sale, not even if it's for the sake of the kingdom, especially not to _them_. The man cannot take a joke, convince him! Use all your merlinesque arguments!" At the young man's chuckle, the knight shook him, as if it would relay the urgency of his situation. "I mean really, I didn't think he'd actually prepare a wedding of all things...I...can you imagine the nuptials Merlin!?"

"_Them_?" the warlocks inquired, curiosity piqued once he realised, that Merlin was not in fact involved with his friend's virtue.

"Yes _them,_ I swear to you my friend, they are evil incarnate! You believe right mate? I would never go for anything but maidens, right?" He released Merlin and sat on his rump. "You know I like my women, like my apples..."

The knight waited expectantly at his friend, while the younger stared at the ground in contemplation.

"...Eaten...?" he answered after a moment of silence. He internally winced when he realised the implication.

Catching on quickly, the eldest smiled slyly, "That too I supposed, but I was going to say with curves. I didn't know you had it in you, mate!"

The servant would have looked nonchalant were it not for his burning cheeks, which you could not see in the darkness. It didn't keep the noble from laughing at him, however, as his posture did scream "embarrassed", much to his dismay.

Merlin cleared his throat, which was understood by the other as he settled for grinning

"...I'm not sure I'm following everything...I mean about_ them," _here the dragonlord pulled his upper lip slightly imitating the ex-drifter, "but I promise if it ever happens I'll help you. For now though, it's time for you watch."

"...My...watch...?"

He glanced at the camp they had made for the night and laugh boisterously for a moment before a few grunts told him to shut up.

"Right, he drawled, my watch. Well, thanks for waking me up mate. Good night and beware of _them_, Merlin, and remember to protect your virtue!" he grinned cheekily and promptly took his sat cross-legged, with his sword at his side, in front of the fire.

"Good night Gwaine" he said as he turned his back to the fire and buried himself in his own spread out cot, a bit further than said knight, and as he was falling asleep, he his friend call out his name. He hummed drowsily to show that he was listening, if barely.

"Mate, if any nightmare plagues you, I'm willing to listen."

Merlin heard some shuffling, as if he the knight couldn't settle in a comfortable position, and couldn't help but feel a rush of gratefulness and affection for having such a friend. Smiling softly he thanked the man and eased into slumber.

As Gwaine, listened to the steady breathing of his brothers, he let his though wander to the servant.

The usually cheery servant had seemed off during these past few weeks-"Maybe longer"- went was it that his smiles were little less genuine. He hadn't notice at first; he only had that nagging feeling of wrongness, which was confirmed with the servant's sombre gaze at the fire, as if it held all the answers.

He had woken up near the end of Merlin's shift, and slightly panicked when he saw the servant approach and he spewed the first thing that came to his still somewhat sleep addled mind.

Hell he and the fire may not have all the answer, but he, on the other hand, did have a sense of humour, which Merlin happened to share. For now, maybe it would be enough to let Merlin know he would be there to listen as well as make him laugh.

And so the legend of Gwaine's infamous loyalty was known there was nothing he wouldn't do for a friend. If one little made up dream could make him smile, imagine what a prank could do.

* * *

**This will be my first contribution for the Merlin fandom, it will start out slow, with as much humour as I can provide. If you have any great idea for pranks it would be really helpful, as I want Gwaine to reck as much hell as possible. Anyways that's it for now, hopefully you enjoyed reading it! ****See ya next time! **


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

The sun was shining, the skies were clear, the birds were chirping and he was not hung-over, he had little sleep, and yet he had been productive. Nothing could ruin this day.

A high shrilling scream resounded in the castle walls.

Could this day be any better! He mentally patted his back.

"_Now_, he thought, _is the perfect day to make a friend see the joy in life!_"

He walked out of his room and strolled towards the kitchen. He glanced at a pretty blond maid, and performed his usual wink and smile, pinning her on the table overflowing with food, more importantly those red apples right next to her. Deft hands did their routine work, one going behind her ear and producing a beautiful flower, followed by a charming "I thought it right to show this flower the meaning of true beauty" all the while putting said flower on her hair, while the other, unnoticed arm, snaked its way over the table to pick an apple, and just as quickly put the food in his pocket, repeating the process one more time.

_"Hook"_, he thought smile widening as the maid fumbled for a reply.

As he stepped back from the blushing maid, who by know was looking at her shoes as if they were the most interesting thing in the world, he assessed "The flower will truly bloom and become beautiful with you, though it's still pales in comparison to your loveliness."

The maid shifted restlessly, a little more flustered at having a more than a few –jealous, he chuckled, stares from some of the other servants.

"Line_ and-_", he was interrupted from finishing his wooing session by a very angry cook.

"Oy get away from the food!" cried the she-devil, wielding her deadly wooden spoon.

Laughing, the knight quickly decided upon making a tactical retreat, he was most definitely not running away from that mad woman. One must after all, know when to choose their battles.

* * *

Merlin had lost track of time, so concentrated in his mind numbing task of tidying up Arthur's chambers, as the latter went to evaluate the knight's training- definitely not avoiding the council meeting- , when he heard the door open.

"Hey mate! Catch!"

Opting for the lesser evil, he caught the red blur, and dropped the basket of laundry he had been holding on the floor.

"Gwaine? What are you doing here; don't you have some knightly things to do?"

"I was looking for you, he said between bites of his apple, and some things have to come before knightly things, namely food! One must always enjoy the fruit of their labour. Besides training finished a candle mark ago..." he flashed a disarming smile and sat on the floor next to the dirty laundry.

He patted the floor next to him and recognising the sign; Merlin sat down and started munching on his own red apple.

"...Gwaine, which maid did you corrupt this time?" the young man asked, amusement dancing in his eyes.

"You wound me! I'd never corrupt any maids with nice curves! Really Merlin, it's not nice to lie!" He claimed in an overly dramatic way, and thus earning a genuine guffaw from his friend.

"Tell me Merlin, what are you doing tonight?" the ex-rogue asked suddenly when his friend regained his breath.

"Working, probably, you know how Arthur likes piling his chores on me" he grumbled good-naturedly.

"Should do something about that..." the knight mumbled as he lowered his head in though.

"What's that?"

"I said we should have some wineskin, you and I, like the good old days eh? He grinned while pushing his hair out of his eyes. "Now finish your lunch and if you have the evening off you tell me alright?" he slapped the black-haired man on the back, whom almost choked.

"Right...wait, Gwaine you said lunch?" Merlin paused and looked through the window.  
"It's nearly midday...It's nearly midday! I have to go wash these and get the prat his lunch!", he rambled, quickly picking up the discarded clothes and putting them back in the basket, "Thanks for the apple and try not to startle any more maids" He called out as he passed the threshold of Arthur's chambers.

Gwaine slowly sat up after cheerfully waving and saying goodbye to his friend, his previous smile taking on a more mischievous air. Looking over his shoulder, the man advanced towards the royal's chair and produced out of his pocket a wooden stick with a mixture of sap and charcoal at its tip.

Lighting a candle, the man heated his handiwork and quickly applied it on the chair. He hoped the man wouldn't look where he sat, as the black substance was a stark contrast to the brown wood.

The deed done, the man quickly got out of the chambers and not too soon as he heard the King's footsteps growing louder.

* * *

Percival was having an odd day, he had been stared at right from the moment a servant-nice respectful chap- brought him breakfast. He knew kids looked up to him, but he'd never been stared at so intently. The young man had said good morning as per usual, but this shocked silence was new. He thought he saw him gap, well before he schooled his expression.

Odd as it was, it didn't deter him from eating his breakfast. Once finished, the lad still was glancing at him. Percival tried to ignore this, dressed and went to the training grounds.

On his way he bumped into a maid that curtsied and as she caught a glimpse of him, screamed.

He hadn't been this self-conscious since he was a teenager. He wanted to ask what was wrong with him, but the moment he took a step towards her, she ran away apologizing all the way.

Something was wrong, very, very wrong. He turned around and went to the court physician room, and bumped on someone yet again, he prayed he that whoever it was wasn't going to scream. As it was, said person took one look at him and immediately started to cackle. Subtle at first, but the more he glanced at him the more loudly it got, he was even crying from it.

"...Is there something on me?" he finally asked frowning in confusion.

"Yes, you've got a lot of something on it in fact" the dark-haired man said while whipping a stray tear. "In fact, maybe you should wash up, ask Gaius for that."

The tall knight was pushed by the smaller man into the chamber and after finally catching up to what he'd done, he apologized and said that he had not meant to be so rude.

"Merlin, it's fine at least you're helping me"

Mirroring the small smile, the young man bid him goodbye and told him to wash thoroughly, particularly around the eyes...

Entering the physician's chamber he asked a wide-eyed Gaius for something to clean his face off.

The physician complied and with a twinkle of amusement in his voice he asked "Percival, why are you wearing enough makeup to rival the lady Morgana?"

* * *

The day had started so nicely too, why it is that idiots surrounded him constantly.

He had wakened to Guinevere's beautiful face, the knight trainings were going smoothly, even if one had missed it._"Probably hung over"_ he mused.

He even managed to avoid an unnecessary council meeting.

And so it was that Arthur Pendragon was sitting on his desk and glaring at the messenger that brought him scrolls.

Scrolls, as in not just one but five, well documented ones at that. Fearing the king's temper, the page simply bowed and quickly scurried away after an irritated hand wave from the man.

Ruefully, he thought it would have been better to deal with longs hours of council meetings rather than this.

Why couldn't it have been some random problems, that just happened to be detailed, that were easily solved?

Arthur knead his brow and hoped that the parchment in front of him were not the assessments of all the damages made in one day. He opened his eyes and realised it wasn't simply an unpleasant dream. The king exhaled and promptly decided to get up and go to his window in order to get fresh air. Pushing on the armrest of his chair, he heaved his body out of his chair and promptly heard an ominous ripping sound.

Wary blue eyes slowly looked from his chair and felt, rather than saw, his now bare bottom.

Gritting his teeth he counted the few blessings he had of not being seen this way by anyone. Of course, he had spoken to soon, because no sooner had he thought this that the door flew open thumping loudly on the walls, and allowing a very familiar man to enter.

Gazed fixed on the platter as he closed the door Merlin began rambling and approached the king.

"Arthur! I'm sorry I'm late, but here's your...lunch..." the man spoke slowly near the end, shaking is head as if to be sure he wasn't really seeing this.

"Think very carefully of what you are going to say Merlin, and close that mouth while you're at it" he threatened.

"I have to say sire... this is, umm, a very bold choice of attire?" He said impishly.

He glared at the lean man, who was biting his lower lip and trying very hard and failing not to let his lips so much as quirk upwards. The servant then quickly laid the silver tray on his table, clearing the stray parchments strewn across it in two neat piles, before going to the King's drawers to fetch him another pair of trousers.

"Merlin if you so much as breathe a word..."

"You will put me in the stocks, I know..."

There was a pregnant pause, as Arthur snatched the trousers from the younger's man hands.

"What should I do with it?" Merlin asked pointing at the ripped fabric glued to the chair.

"Replace it and you have the day off" the royal growled, not wanting to have to put up with witty remarks that would alluded to this moment.

Now more than ever did he wonder why this always seem to happen to him, surely he was doing something wrong, is father had never had to deal with this...this curse!


	3. Chapter 2

**Sorry for the long wait, exams have been taking a lot of my time, but I worked on this chapter between my breaks.**

**I have no idea how to reply to reviews so I'll just thank all of you for your alerts and reviews. It really means a lot :) **

**Now to answer WishIwasthere, I was going for a somewhat awake Gwaine, that just happened to see Merlin in a brooding phase and acted like a fool because he didn't know how to react to that situation. I changed that part in order to clarify thing and hopefully it does.**

**On another note, I feel like Merlin's not that IC but I'm trying my best to change that...**

**Anyways, enjoy the chapter and sorry if there are any mistakes!**

* * *

Whispers, cautious glances and stifled laughs were all that Camelot knew for the rest of the day. They had seen the damage done to the castle and their knights, none of the members of the round table were spared, except the Queen and the physician.

Gwaine was not foolish enough to incur the wrath of a man that knew how to brew potions that could very well kill you, not that he would mind you, but he certainly could -accidently- add something that give you mild stomach ache, or something that could give you rash. Who knew what he could do and he'd rather not find out.

Guinevere on the other hand was just too lovely and kind to publically humiliate, so he simply decided to place a couple of hens in Camelot's throne room, who were liberated the moment one of the old council members opened the wooden door and they were free to strut around the halls of the castle. It was amusing to see servants try to catch them.

The prank on Merlin was innocent enough, in fact he'd wager it wasn't even harmful, well it had given Arthur a chance to call him a girl, but he hadn't wanted to put any stress on the lad, and he needed a witness so that Merlin would not be a suspected for all the pranks.

So really having scented water with roses, dropped on him the moment he opened the door out of Arthur's chamber was merciful of him.

As for his alibi, he found that "finding" his cape to be an eye watering pink, in front of Elyan and proceed to wear said cape and riding out for a quick patrol was enough to cast suspicion away from him.

Come night fall, all of Camelot was peaceful. Filling his wineskin with ale, the knight directed himself to the physician's quarter and greeted a somewhat disgruntled Merlin cleaning the leech tank.

Taking a cloth, he settled next to the young man and tried to help him finish up the task. It was quite a task indeed.

"Merlin, it won't let go! What do I do?!"

"Stop waving your hand...Gwaine stay still and give me your hand"

It had taken half a candle mark to get off...

"Merlin, this...is vile, the slime is everywhere"

"I know...Gwaine, trust me, I know" he ruefully replied

Half a candle mark afterwards, they finished with Gwaine almost bumping into the temporary tank for the leeches. It was Merlin's fault though.

"Gwaine, catch"

And he almost caught it too, as it was the leech only fell with a splat on the floor. Who said cleaning a leech tank couldn't be somewhat fun?

* * *

The wineskin was being passed back and forth from knight to servant as they sat on the parapet walk, enjoying the silence of the night and the fresh breeze.

Now, how was he supposed to start what was was sure to be an awkward conversation? He couldn't very well have Merlin completely drunk, sure the man was going to be truthful but, that didn't sit right with him...Okay so he'll use that as a last resort.

"Mate, did you enjoy your day?" he finally asked after taking a long swig of the wineskin.

Merlin regarded him quizzically and told him that it was rather nice to have the day off. Gwaine hummed and watched the younger man drink slowly. Merlin handed him the skin, which he refused to take if he didn't drink more than just a sip.

Rolling his eyes the secret warlock complied. "Better?" He asked as he once again gave him the wineskin. "By the way, how did you know Arthur would give me the day off?" he narrowed his eyes.

"Well, you know how the princess is, he can't be quite generous when he's... prompted" he grinned impishly.

Merlin cracked a smile and started laughing as Gwaine told him all of the pranks he had planned for Arthur. As their laughter subsisted, the knight looked at his friend as he wiped the tear in his eye.

"You know Merlin, we should do this more often. Just you, me and trusty ale, or mead, or whatever takes your fancy!" He smiled and playfully punched the other's arm.

"You right, we should." He gave the man a full blown –genuine- grin.

Encouraged by his victory, Gwaine continued sincerely "You know, Merlin, it's times like these, when you feel a little down that you need a bit of time off and to spend some time with a friend. Merlin, I ...You're my first friend and..." he sighed, what should he say, he's seen his hurt and he doesn't know what to do about it? He wished Merlin would trust him?

He racked his fingers through his hair, aware of his friend's gaze on him.

"Look, I just want you to know, if you ever need something, even if it's just someone to listen to your troubles, you can count on me alright? Whatever it is, you're not alone mate." He looked straight at Merlin wishing to convey all his sincerity.

The servant lowered his head, hiding all the emotions he was sure could be seen through his eyes. He bit his lips and avoided to look at his friend as he said a sincere thank you.

He continued "I...There are some things that I'm not proud of and I have my fair share of troubles. I may not tell you everything right away, even if I wish to tell you everything..." He rubbed his eyes and stared at the lands beyond Camelot. "But I will eventually and when that time-"

The warning bell rang through the whole city, cutting the servant off.

The two men looked at each other before darting off inside the castle, dreading what they would find.

* * *

Arthur was rudely awakened by the sounds of the bells ringing, and by Sir Leon who had just burst into his chamber to verify his safety. The king, swiftly dressed and walked to the throne room has his second in command informed him of what had happened, the Queen following closely. A guard had seen a sorcerer try to break through the royal chambers and had been apprehended.

The king knew his knights were well trained and could hold their own against magical creatures, but he could not help but feel apprehensive about this situation. After all, couldn't sorcerers simply cast a spell and escape from the guards? There had to be something more to this...

Stopping in front of the grand wooden door, the king took a moment to push his weariness aside and don the air of confidence and regal attitude befitting his status.

As he entered the room, he took in the sight that greeted him. The magic user was bent down on his knees in front of the throne, cloak still hiding his features, surrounded by knights who had drawn their sword, one of which was pointing his weapon to the prisoners' neck. The rest of the court standing at either side of the room.

The royal pair sat down on their thrones, glancing briefly as they saw Gwaine and Merlin enter the room and go to their respective place.

"Are you the one who found this sorcerer?" he asked neutrally to the guard next to the bowed figure.

"Yes your highness, I am." He bowed and waited for the king to acknowledge him. Arthur waved for him to continue.

"I came across this man as I was doing my patrol around the castle. He tried to break into the royal chambers, sire. I took him by surprise but he managed to escape me." He admitted shamefully. "The ruckus alerted the rest of the guards, and after chasing him, we apprehended him." He finished once again by bowing and taking a step back from the throne.

The royal's gaze went to the sorcerer's. He asked coldly "What were you doing near my chambers?"

The man was silent, and was roughly shoved back on the ground as he tried to stand. The king glared at the knight as he told him to stand down.

Time stilled for seemingly an eternity as the sorcerer stared defiantly at the king, until he broke the uneasy silence with an accusation in lieu of an answer to his question.

"You are no different than your father! You see peace where you want to, but ignore the needs of others that are just as innocent!" the sorcerer spat. "Many have waited for the change in rule, thinking that the son would be different. Surely if Emrys protected him, then he would be just with even our people, he would see the error of the past."

The man gritted his teeth and hissed "Emrys is wrong, there is no change that can be brought about with the reign of the Pendragons! Let your protector be your downfall!"

He was restrained as he advanced towards the throne and stared at the king, his eyes reflected fury and unshed tears, and before any of the knights could react, the man shouted a short and swift word that made the knights fly across the room, knocking some of them out.

Eyes still shining an unholy gold, the man intoned a series of syllables that sounded both haunting and melodic to his ears.

Black tendrils seeped through his finger tips, as the words died out, but by the time Percival's sword pierced the man, the damage was done. The darkness was spreading to the whole chamber, to each individual and disappeared into the cracks of the stones, and spreading to the whole kingdom.

Something had happened and the castle was different somehow.

A deep feeling of unrest and fear plagued them from then own as for a split moment, they all could hear screams of anguish, of hatred, some simply pleading to spare their lives, before it quieted down.

* * *

_Mommy!_

_Why Emrys!?_

_Please..._

_I don't want to die!_

_Help us Emrys!_

The murmurs and sometimes screams, made themselves known irregularly.

So much fear, sadness, anger and hope. Hope that this was all a bad dream, and that someone would save them.

All these echoes of feelings long passed: it was crushing him.

He thought he would be consumed by them, that he'd lose himself in all of these emotions. More importantly he feared that he'd act upon them.

They plagued him every day since the death of the sorcerer, and he was the only one who continued to hear them.

He heard them all the time, but there were certain places in Camelot were the voices were stronger, like the dungeon.

The courtyard...Where they executed sorcerers...

At first, he had though the cries were heard throughout the kingdom, but as Gaius and he retreated to the solace of their shared room, he started to think otherwise, for his mentor told him, calmly, to rest up as they would research the spell come morning.

"Sleep? How can we sleep with all those screams? It's like the Dorocha's again!" he had asked incredulously.

"My boy...No one is screaming." Gaius had told him, leading him on a bench, as he saw the rising panic in his ward's eyes.

Merlin cast his eyes on his hands. "Am I going mad Gaius?"

* * *

**I'll stop here for now! Next time we finally see The Great Dragon and leave a review and tell me what you think.**


	4. Chapter 3

**Thanks for the reviews and support! I'll be trying to update once a week now that my finals!**

**Lots of explaining in this chapter and the whole cast is now coming into play, so hopefully it was worth the wait and it isn't going to be too boring. **

**You got in one Starlit Skyline :) **

**Anyways here the chapter enjoy, sorry for any mistakes in there and I don't own Merlin!**

* * *

Ethereal blue lights danced around the desolated library, as the two men poured through books and parchments in silence. Both had long since finished searching through Gaius' library with no avail and had decided to search in the secret room where lain different artefacts of a time long past.

That part of the library must have some information on the spell that was cast or at least some information on the book the sorcerer was carrying. As it was, the book briefly mentioned the intent of the incantation but it did not contain a full account of what it did to the person who was cursed.

Long fingers trailed the rim of a black battered book, writing in the language of the old religion. A broken seal was etched on the cover of the book to safe guard it from evil intents. Perhaps the author had wanted to safeguard this knowledge to prevent this kind of situation.

The young man supposed it had worked for a very long time, it the condition of the book was anything to go by. They had found it in a hidden pocket of the sorcerer's cloak and had been promptly whisked away by the king in to examine it thoroughly come morning.

Really, though, the prat knew nothing of magic, yet he insisted on checking the book, when they both knew it would eventually become Gaius's task. He knew he wasn't being fair to the king, but he was rather annoyed he had to sneak in the royal's room to retrieve it.

Gwen had even almost woken up. Nothing a sleeping spell couldn't remedy but still...

"Merlin..."

The warlock kneed his brow and scrunched his eyes closed, leaning heavily on one of the chairs in the royal library, leaving the cursed book in the corner of the table.

He pressed his hands harder in hopes to relieve his growing headache. Just when he thought they were gone, they started crying out to him again, although the voices never called him Merlin before...

Huh, maybe they got tired of calling out to Emrys...

"Merlin..."

They never sounded annoyed either and it was never a singular they. The voice was old and gruff, actually it reminded him of...

"Merlin!"

Said man jolted out of his reverie, and opened his eyes to a haggard looking man.

"Gaius...?"

"Have you been listening to a single thing I've said?" the old man asked arching his eyebrow.

The youth gave a sheepish smile as the older man looked at him worryingly. Sighing, the physician dropped a fading brown tome on the desk, making the thin sheen of dust whirl in the air.

Covering his nose and coughing at the same time, Merlin glared at the old man. "Was that really necessary Gaius? Now I've got dust up my nose" He sneezed and pointed dramatically at his nose "Happy now Gaius?"

Gaius shook his head fondly at his ward's antics. "I was simply making sure I had your attention my boy."

Merlin glared at his mentor when he saw the small smile playing at his lips, and he found himself fighting back his own grin. It really was hard trying to stay angry at Gaius for some reason.

Unperturbed, Gaius resumed speaking and sifted through the pages of the old tome until he found a particular entry. "As I was saying, while you were clearly paying attention, I found the spell."

Geriatric hands handled the old book and arranged it so it was positioned under his ward's gaze. The man seemed to age in front of his very eyes. Gaius' eyes caught his surrogate son's and held them as he explained what he had read.

"This spell was used to punish those who in the eyes of the caster had done wrong. Once the spell is uttered, it verifies the claim by inspecting the memories of the recipient of the spell."

He paused and rubbed his tired eyes, before heaving a sigh.

"Since the sorcerer thought you had failed everyone who was accused and executed for being a sorcerer, the magic reacted by creating illusions of the dead. You see the spell only reacts if the claim is true, even if you did not kill them yourself, I believe a part of you blames yourself for it."

Rubbing his temples, the young man let the information sink in. Briefly, he wondered if it was too much to ask for destiny to give him a break, or at least spare him the thrumming in his head.

He didn't want to answer the underlying question, there are some things that he'd rather Gaius not know, and that was one of them. He settled for diverting Gaius's attention to something he'd been pondering.

"If they're only illusions, then why are they stronger in certain parts of the castle?"

His father figure leaned over and inspected his grimacing face. "The enchantment, feeds on your memory and the imprinted feelings left behind, for each object retains a certain amount of them."

The physician carefully laid a hand on the young man's brow and uttered a simple incantation. Merlin stared in disbelief at the blatant use of magic coming from the old man.

He seldom used magic but a physician's job was to heal, and he didn't hide headache potions in his robes, so naturally he would heal the other way he could. He resumed talking only when he was sure Merlin felt better.

"The result is a combination of the two, your mind remembers those who have fallen and you have an idea of what they felt during their ordeal. The spell associates the feelings of your memories to the corresponding imprints in the castle and makes the echoes...Merlin, how do you feel? What do they tell you?"

Dropping his hand on the table, he looked up and beamed, though his cheeriness didn't quite reach his eyes. "Well, Gaius I feel like I need a break and they tell me they agree!"

"Merlin, you must answer the question. Depending on how far you are, it may very well be the end of Camelot." _And your's_ was implied by the worried tone of his mentor.

"When is it not? If it's not some magical creature, it's a sorcerer. Well, either that or deadly sibling rivalry... Does lover's spat fit in Camelot's way to destruction, because Gwen really throws a mean punch." Blues eyes twinkled and he added in stage whisper. "I've seen what it does on Arthur and let me tell you it is not pretty!"

"This is not the time for jokes, Merlin! Do you understand the severity of the situation?"

"I do Gaius, I really do, but what else can I do, short of travelling all over the land for the cure? I'm sure Arthur's going to just let me go at it."

"Merlin, Arthur's not as insensitive as you may think. If we explain the situation, he will be a great asset" Argued reasonably the physician.

The warlock stood up abruptly and gesticulated wildly. "And tell him what? I hear voices and they just might convince me to kill you, so you must help me? Gaius even you must admit that I would sound raving mad!"

Heaving a sigh he sat down again. "I'm sorry Gaius...Why is it important to know what I hear and what I feel?"

The physician realised the purpose for the change of subject for what it was, a tentative truce. He stared at his ward and gave him his customary raised eyebrow that implied the subject would be resumed later.

"It is important, Merlin, because this will help us keep track on how fast your condition is progressing"

Relenting, Merlin stated that he had been nursing a growing headache before and that the voice merely emanated feelings and said his name.

The older man, who had decided to sit down, nodded and once again, took the ancient book.

"I see, thankfully, the spell as not taken a deeper hold on you. You are still at the beginning of this spell and it will only get worse"

He reached for his ward's arm and slightly squeezed. It was a poor way to actually help the lad, but his support was still there nonetheless. Never letting go, the man continued, "As you are well aware, the first stage is hearing the souls voices, what they say will vary, but they all lead to exhausting the mind and leaving it vulnerable."

Merlin's head shot up and he regarded the old man with a guarded expression.

"Vulnerable for what exactly?"

"The spell is used to manipulate the mind and bend it to the original purpose of the sorcerer. "

If Merlin's voice sounded a little too tight when he asked him to continue, his mentor didn't say anything and simply complied.

"What will follow the auditory illusion, will be another mind deception. You will feel what the souls felt when they were alive; it is not clear what you feel, however. Before the final stage, you will see them and they will plague you, even as you sleep, until...until you do exactly what they want."

The young man felt the hand on his arm squeeze with surprising strength.

The night would go on peacefully until each citizen would awaken and work, repeating this cycle, unaware of the dangers that lay in the heart of the kingdom. He'd always wanted to silently protect his home from any danger. He would never harm Camelot and he certainly wasn't going to start now.

"How do we stop this from happening?" he asked, his face a picture of determination.

"You say the spell that will reverse the curse..."

"I'm sensing a "but" in there somewhere"

"I'm afraid, the book is missing his companion. You see, there is two part of this book; one is littered with dark magic, and the other is the complete opposite."

The young man groaned; nothing was simple nowadays was it? Sometimes, he thought destiny just wanted to mess around with him and send him on long journeys for its own amusement.

"Would the book happen to say where its counterpart is? Maybe it's still there?" He replied helpfully.

"I'm afraid not my boy," Gaius got up slowly and pushed is chair under the table. He continued, " we will continue to look in the morning...We must rest sometime Merlin, and remember to put the book were you found it."

Merlin nodded and let all the blue spheres illuminating the room but one, fade away. He led the ways out of the library and parted ways with the physician with the excuse of getting the book back to Arthur's room.

* * *

Three days had gone by and no amount of searching the royal library and re-reading the book, that had in fact, been given to Gaius to investigate on behalf of the king, when the latter had found out he was not able to read it, had helped to locate it's missing half.

All the while, the voices were growing more insisting and had begun screaming, weeping and blaming him more often. He had woken up early today because of it.

In fact he had learned that waking up early to serve Arthur made the king less inclined to give him tiring chores.

Waking up because of screaming, however, made his day a living hell anyways.

With the way the spell was already waning on his mind, he wasn't too confident on how he would maintain his sanity.

If he did succumb to the spell, something told him that no matter how much Gaius and he tried to reason that it was an illusion and he didn't in fact want to fell Camelot, it wouldn't really work.

If it really came to this, he needed someone that might be able to buy some time for someone to retrieve the other book and to actually cast the spell.

That someone was also the only source of information he had not exhausted, and so he would wait until night fall to pay him a visit.

* * *

Moonlight streamed on the trees and the clearing as the dragon and young man bowed to each other.

"Why have you summoned me young warlock?" the dragon rumbled not unkindly.

The warlock clenched and unclenched his hands has he tried to explain everything that had happened this night. He was hard to believe all this had happened but a few hours ago; it certainly felt like ages.

"Kilgharrah, do you know of a set of two books that..." he started pacing and racked his finger through is hair and continued, "That contain knowledge of dark magic and knowledge of counter spells to the dark magic perhaps?"

He tilted his head inquisitively and looked up at golden narrowed eyes.

"I think, young warlock, you should start from the beginning"

Merlin sat on the dewing grass and succinctly retold what had transpired.

"I see. I believe you are referring to the books of Áwerian. It was said that there was a keeper of the knowledge of the high priest and priestess of the old religion. He kept all the records of the knowledge passed down from those members in two separate books, and the book you have in your possession is one of them."

The dragon stretched his wings and settled in a more comfortable position, lowering his head on his forelegs.

The human breathed an internal sigh of relief at the straight answer that was given to him.

"Would you happen to know where the other book is?"

"Deep within the valley of the fallen kings will lay his tomb, and along with it the books will stay protected."

The dragon was rewarded with a thankful smile. "Great, so if I find the tomb, I'll find the book"

"Essentially, but Merlin...You must beware, for nothing of great value is left unprotected."

The ancient creature once again starched his leathery wings to take up flight but stopped when he heard his Dragonlord ask for a favour. Tilting his head towards the man, the dragon patiently waited for him to elaborate.

Merlin bit his lower lip and braced himself for what would, hopefully, not become an argument. "I was wondering if you would know of a way to forestall the spell while I find the book and perform the spell..."

Amber eyes narrowed and fixed him with a soul-piercing gaze. "I assume you already have an idea that I might not take too fondly?"

The dragon wondered what was so difficult to ask as he saw the Dragonlord fidget under his eyes.

"I thought, since it is a type of enchantment that plays on the mind, that it would be possible to shield my mind from it, and since you can project your thoughts in my mind, I thought maybe..."

The warlock trailed off and at the hopeful look in the youth's face, it dawned to the dragon that the young warlock wanted him to be that shield. Unfortunately, simply projecting his thoughts would not be sufficient to distract him from the screams and all that the curse entailed.

He would have to be near him to maintain a powerful shield as distance could wane its strength.

Grudgingly he had to admit that it might be necessary for him to do so. The only problem was that it may not safeguard him from the later phases. Closing his eyes and restraining a sigh the dragon conceded.

"Rest for now young warlock, we will work on the arrangements at dawn."

The youth nodded and moved closer to the dragon, in order to lean and lay his head on the creature's flank, and soon fell into a blissful slumber, unaware of the dragon curling protectively over him, and shielding him from view.

* * *

Camelot, the city that had held him captive for twenty years...

He never would have thought he would one day willingly enter the city. Even without his dragonlord's order, he would have never again attacked the city, for this was the young Pendragon's kingdom, it was not Uther's.

Of course, he didn't think he would ever be walking around said kingdom and have his olfactory senses assault by spices, unwashed bodies, perfume and other things he could not distinguish.

He suppressed the desire to climb on his Dragonlord and curl into his neckerchief, if only to stop the assaults on his now pink nose. He questioned the plan not for the first time since he changed forms.

He would be near Merlin, and could act as some sort of defence to the thoughts and feelings that plagued him as they planned. Though, he wondered how far he could stray from Merlin without affecting the barrier.

If they took too long to break the curse, he doubted he would be able to stop the Dragonlord if his reason failed him. With his current form, he doubted he could stop him and in order to do so he would have to swallow the mixture he taught Merlin, once again, and change into something more appropriate.

He hoped it would not come to that.

He shadowed Merlin as they finally passed through the merchant street, and hissed at a child that had tried to run his pudgy hands on his fur. As it was, it wasn't very effective as the child still roughly petted him and pulled on his tail.

He heard a faint chuckle and he would never admit that he was glad the young warlock had gently reprimanded the little monster and had picked him up, carrying him the rest of the way to the physician's chamber.

They truly made for an odd pair, or maybe it wasn't as eye catching as he originally thought. In fact, it almost seemed like the norm for the servant to be carrying animals or behaving unusually. The guards and servant did not even blink at the brown tabby in his arms, with too intelligent liquid golden eyes; they did however greet Merlin with a cheery smile or a curt nod.

With one hand still holding the dragon, now turned cat, Merlin opened the door to his shared quarters and after letting Kilgharrah down, he peered in the cooking pot, for some leftover breakfast.

The black haired man heard the slamming of a door behind him and a startled gasp. "Merlin! Where have you been? You are going to be late for work...again"

"It's still, early, and the council meeting is at high noon," he replied as he filled a bowl with watery porridge and grabbed the stale bread. "Besides, I'm hungry and haven't had breakfast yet"

He grinned and grabbed some dried meat and offered it to the brown tabby, who stared at him in a haughty manner before taking a bite.

Sitting down, the young man ate his breakfast and occasionally looked down at the feline. Sometimes humming and grunting, as if he were having a conversation with it.

Raising an eyebrow at the sight, Gaius joined Merlin at the table and asked, "Why did you bring a cat here?"

He stopped mid chew to stare at the man in front of him as if to say why wouldn't he, until he realised something, and started to explain everything with his mouth full.

Gaius, well verse in the art of understanding Merlin when eating, quickly understood and regarded the cat sceptically, confirming once more for the sake of his sanity, "Kilgharrah has changed his form to slow the effects of the spell." Merlin nodded and added, "And he's travel friendly," which in turn earned him a hiss.

"How do you intent to keep him at your side at all times? Surely you know Arthur won't agree with you having a cat," he frowned starring at Kilgharrah.

The cat stretched and tilted his head upwards towards the old traitor. "Perhaps not, but I can manage to stay in the same room as the young Dragonlord."

Dipping his bread in the last drop of the porridge, Merlin made a non-committable sound,"You could always be a neckerchief?"

Amber eyes creased. "I have seen what you do with them, Merlin..."

Shrugging he considered that explanation fair enough.

Taking care to do all the menial task such as washing the dirty bowl, Merlin signalled his companion to follow him to the kitchen, where he grabbed the king's breakfast, and proceeded onwards towards Arthur's bedroom.

Kilgharrah had never seen the young warlock and the young Pendragon interact before, in a non life threatening situation, but he'd found himself somewhat surprise to see the blatant disrespect to the crown.

Maybe he shouldn't considering it was his Dragonlord he was talking about.

He saw Merlin opening the door unceremoniously with a bang, and still the royal did not wake up. With practice ease, the tall man manoeuvre with rare grace around the clothes littered floor and carefully placed the food on a table.

Strolling over to the curtains he strewn them open and let sunlight beam around the room. "Up and at them!" he chirped.

Arthur groaned, rolling on his stomach and burying his head in his pillow.

Moving all deadly objects around Arthur far away from his reach, Merlin continued to blabber on. "Arthur you don't want to be late to the meeting because you refused to get out of bed do you? It's not very kingly of you...and neither is throwing a pillow at me!"

The lithe man turned and grabbed said pillow and calmly arranged the royal bed as Arthur, finally, decided to dress for the day and sit down to eat.

Methodically cutting the sausages, Arthur felt a shiver down his spine and a prickling sensation at the back of his neck. His lips thinned and he looked around his room only to catch a flicker of brown disappearing underneath the table.

"Arthur"

"Merlin...is there someone else in the room"

Merlin froze and smoothed the already wrinkled free covers.

"Merlin..." he threatened.

"...Well, you see, it's not really someone, it's more..." long fingers fiddle with the seams of his sleeves. It was someone, but he didn't need to know that.

Blue eyes followed the dark haired man as he nervously bent down to get something under his table, with in fact turned out to be an it.

Carefully in the arms of his servant was a cat. Did he want to know why Merlin picked up this stray? No, no he did not.

"It can't stay here Merlin"

"It has nowhere to go! He won't get in the way!" Pleaded the man and shoved the bundle in the king's arms. "It's harmless Arthur," not really but, again, he didn't need to know that, "Don't tell me your afraid of a cat" he taunted.

Blue eyes and golden eyes clashed, while Merlin crossed his arms and waited. The king wasn't scared, but it was kind of eerie how the cat seemed to be aware of everything around him. It felt like a very long awkward moment between man and feline, before he shoved it back into his friend's arm. "Fine keep him, just..." he gazed pointedly at his manservant's eyes, avoiding all eye contact with the other being, and waved his hand, as if to say don't leave it here with me.

He didn't want to be saddled with the responsibility of watching Merlin's new pet, that's why he didn't want to be alone with it. It really had nothing to do with the fact that it creeps him out. It seems though, to his utter relief that the cat which had been fondly nicknamed Killy by Gwaine, seemed to have that effect on everyone but, Gwaine. Even his wife had been subjected to a soul piercing gaze from the cat when she cooed at him.

The roguish knight, just stared back and grinned and even begged Merlin to handle the cat while he held the pitcher during the council meeting.

Bemused, the servant simply beamed at him and warned the cat not to bite Gwaine's finger off.

So it was to the sight of a very irritated cat and howls of laughter that the council members took their seats and tried to start an important meeting.

* * *

**Well tell me what you think, horrible? Passable? Fine?**

**You know you want to click that button!**

**Till next week!**


	5. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin and his characters and all that jazz...**

**A/N: I live and really I started this chapter a long time ago, just kind of forgot about it. **

**Thanks for the reviews, favs and alerts! They really gave me a wake up call. **

**I fixed the mistakes pointed out to me in chap 4, probably hell of a lot of other little mistakes still in there and in the others, which a will fix when I stop being lazy...**

**By the way Àwerian means, well if the Old English Translator is to be believed, to defend, hinder, restrain and what not.**

**Hopefully I did okay on this chapter and everyone is IC, so enjoy? **

* * *

"We must be sure that the sorcerer had no accomplice!"

"And how do you propose, we make sure you? He didn't leave a trail for us to follow and the patrols the king ordered found nothing!"

"Enough," boomed an authoritative voice that left the room with a deafening silence.

The council men had been arguing back and forth for a very long time. Even dead, the sorcerer had done nothing to calm their nerves, nor did the black tendrils that had still not done anything that may cripple the kingdom. This had only heightened their fears.

They wanted to explore any possible leads that may rid whatever was dormant out of Camelot.

They all did.

Bickering amongst each other would solve nothing however, and so it fell to the king to try to keep them in line and focused.

"Gaius, are you sure that the kingdom itself is not cursed?"

A solemn nod answered his query and confirmed is growing suspicion.

Narrowing his eyes, the king stared at the physician.

"If not the kingdom, what or who is?"

It had been bothering the young man for a while. The sorcerer had implied that someone was guarding Camelot, someone that he had regarded highly.

Perhaps it was a sorcerer. If it was, it pegged the question of why.

Why would a sorcerer willingly protect a kingdom who had ostracized it's kind for many years. He had not ordered a witch hunt during his reign and had promised to be leaniant to the druids, but these acts did not warrant the protection of a powerful sorcerer.

This was the reason he had called for a council meeting. From the spiel and from the lack of spontaneous plague on Camelot or magical attack since the cloaked sorcerer, he had been thinking the curse was directed to this Emrys.

"Didn't the cloaked man say something about an Emrys? Maybe that's who," drawled a voice further to his left.

The blond shifted his attention to Gwaine, who was trying his best to groom the feline and had succeeded at finally riling it enough for it to scratch him, if the muffled curse was anything to go by.

"That's what I also think. What I do not know is whether it is safe for the kingdom to let this so-called Emrys wander the kingdom with a curse on him," once again he locked eyes with the elderly man and pursued his point, " This Emrys is not a common man if the man cursed him and not the castle. I believe the sorcerer though he needed but to curse Emrys and Camelot would fall. This could only mean he is a sorcerer, or at the very least a powerful man..."

He already knew this much from that incident with Agravaine and Gaius supposed treachery. This affair had only recalled the events. Gaius had once told him that some wanted nothing but to protect Camelot. The physician trusted and protected Emrys and he had been tortured previously for the same information.

He had doubted Gaius once and he would never again do so. That was why he did not pursue any information about Emrys last time.

He could not this time, and regrettably, he had to inform the council and the round table about this Emrys, for he needed each and every single input about this matter to take an appropriate course of action.

He gritted his teeth in masked frustration. As expectably the old council cried for a hunt and demanded the cursed man's death. What kind of man would he be if he repaid protection for the city with death?

Surprisingly it was neither he nor Gaius that defended the secret protector.

It was the laid back knight currently nursing his left hand that stood up for the stranger. "I don't think we should hunt him. From what I can tell he protects the city and if he's protecting the king, perhaps curing him might be better?"

"That Emrys is a sorcerer! Do you not recall what their kind have done to this kingdom!" growled a red-faced councilman.

"I'm simply saying it as I see it," grouched the knight.

He saw Merlin's lips move quietly to Gwaine as he moved to refill his glass...with wine?

"Be that as it may, how do you propose we cure him if we do not even know what the curse does?" Or if Emrys isn't another magic user bent on destroying Camelot and is only bidding his time to do so, he though.

He needed to have a talk with Gaius privately after this.

"Sire, surely you're not thinking of aiding a sorcerer? What would your father think!?"cried a graying nobleman.

"What he thinks does not matter, for he is no longer ruling," he dismissed with thinly veiled anger.

He was his own man was he not? Agravaine had manipulated him this way and he would not let himself fall for the same argument.

"Sire, if I may?"

He closed his eyes and nodded to Gaius.

"Merlin and I have come across some information about the spell and a way to cure it," he started with concealed apprehension in his voice, that had he not known him for as long as he did, he would not have heard it.

He lifted his hand and forestalled any arguments from arising and once again told his trusted physician to continue.

"We could make the cure and lure Emrys to it. That would give us the opportunity to assess the man..."

"What?"

What indeed Gwaine. Why would Gaius want to lure his friend to a trap?

He could hear the councilman murmur approvingly to the plan.

"Why not simply let him believe it is the cure to the curse, instead of creating one," a balding councillor asked.

"If he is has powerful as the deceased magic user thinks, he would be able to differentiate the real cure from a fake one..."

The nobleman hummed in agreement. "We must lure him into a false sense of security, of course," rubbing his chin he mused,"We could then surround him with knights and drag him to the dungeon once his guard is down. Yes, this could work"

The king spread a hand across his chin and lips in a contemplative manner. That wouldn't work.

He knew from experience that magic was stronger than swords and a simple spell could make a group of knight kneel. Gaius knew better than that.

He narrowed his eyes and hid his growing smile behind his hand. The gesture was not lost on the physician if his subtle nod was anything to go about.

That shrewd old man...

Gaius had never said anything about capturing. He knew they wouldn't be able to subdue Emrys but they could certainly fake it. He was perhaps counting on this occasion to give him the cure and letting him escape.

After all, it would be an unfortunate accident if the sorcerer managed to overpower them and heal himself in the process.

"Very well, spread the word that we are looking for a cure to the curse, but do not say what it is nor who is affected by it" This, of course, was a cue for the noblemen to talk about this bit of information in front of their servants.

"Gwaine, you will accompany me to find the cure. The rest scout the area and protect the queen in my absence, in case the sorcerer did in fact have an accomplice. The council is dismissed"

* * *

He may be a laidback man and may or may not be drunk often, but he certainly was not dense. Gwaine had seen the little exchange between Arthur and Gaius.

He'd even seen Merlin tense at the name Emrys. Clearly, the young man didn't want them to hunt him. So he had decided to speak for him. So speak he did and wine he received and for some reason, the name Emrys sounded familiar and no amount of wine could jog his memory.

He was also under the impression that Gaius did not want a hunt, so it was perfectly understandable that he'd asked "What the hell was that and what did I miss," in a somewhat irritated manner behind the closed doors of the physician's chamber.

Merlin shared his opinion and sat crisscross on a patient cot with the cat on his knees.

"Are you really going to hunt him down? I though you would give him at least the benefit of the doubt...I mean, the sorcerer said he was protecting..."

"_Mer_lin!"

"...Shut up?"

"Yes, know listen. We are giving him a chance to explain himself and if he somehow escapes with the cure, then it wasn't because we let him get away..." Arthur stressed the last few words and by the look on Merlin's face, he understood the plan.

Flopping down next to Merlin, Gwaine grinned and looked at the blond sitting across the table from Gaius, "Not that I'm against this or anything, but why are you doing this princess?"

"I trust Gaius's judgment." It was a simple reply, but it belied a certain weight that made the old man smile. "Tell me Gaius who is this Emrys. Why did Morgana look for him and why did this sorcerer believe he was here? " at this he glanced at the old man and waited for him to start talking.

Well, Gwaine mused, it seemed Arthur was just following the old man's lead if he wasn't even sure of Emrys' stance on Camelot. He would even go as far as bet a tankard of mead that Arthur trusted him far more since the Agravaine debacle.

"About time," he muttered under his breath at the same time Gaius started speaking.

"Emrys," he began, "Emrys is a man of legend; his arrival as been foretold for many years. It was said he would come in a time where magic would be banned and he would restore the ways of the old religion." The healer pointedly gazed at the king, while Merlin tensed besides Gwaine.

Brown locks swayed from left to right as the knight shook his head. "If restoring the old religion in Camelot is his destiny, why would Morgana wish to see him dead?"

He could see how his friend's long fingers raked through the soft fur of Killy and gripped it lightly, while the other hand was being nuzzled by the cat.

It was odd it almost seemed as if the feline was silently supporting the young man. If he needed support though, his face didn't give anything away.

It was frustratingly blank.

Sharp eyes that shined with wisdom shifted to lock on his.

"That," Gaius said at length," is a very good question and the answer his linked with the legend of the Once and..."

Gwaine bolted of the bed and exclaimed," Past, Present...no maybe," he furrowed his brow, "Future King?" He looked expectantly at Gaius who could only give a thoroughly confused nod.

"Why a bloke would give himself this confusing title is beyond me but," he shrugged and smoothed a hand through his beard," I think I know that legend...Emrys would babysit that very confused time king to bring an age of peace, unite Albion, bring back magic and be the doom of an evil wench...What?"

He stopped as everyone in the room stared openly at him. Merlin in particular managed to pull an interesting combination of amusement and disbelief.

"That was...the most unusual interpretation of the legend I have heard...but I suppose essentially yes...He would aid," the wise voice precised, "the king and he would be the doom of a the last High Priestess, Morgana"

"I suppose wench was too weak a word, how about-" A cough from Merlin partially buried the sound of his word, and perhaps it was for the best that Arthur only heard, "-itch..."

He grinned boyishly at Merlin and he could swear he saw the cat grin at him...Distantly he heard Arthur ask what that had to do with Camelot.

"Everything Arthur..."

Arthur stared openly at his oldest advisor and opened and closed his mouth several times.

"Are you implying that I'm this once and future king?"

Brown eyes snapped to the king as he heard the chair clatter to the floor. Arthur was leaning, hand laying flat on the table, and glaring at Gaius.

"Indeed sire, I can tell you no more however, since it is not my story to tell."

Who knew silence could be this heavy. Tension was rolling of the king's figure and it was quickly dispelled by Merlin.

"Time confused king indeed. Don't you think this says something about your schedule? I mean if some old men wrote about it and named you because of it..."

It had the desired effect, as the king seemed to deflate and repositioned his chair.

"If you did your job correctly for once, that is, wake me up on time, I wouldn't have to reschedule now would I, Merlin?" He drawled and sat down.

"So... Emrys helps Arthur in the shadows and he might be dying...How do we help him then?" Gwaine asked after snatching the cat from the servant.

"You will find a similar book to this one," All eyes followed the end of the wrinkled index to the black book, "It will be deep in a tomb within the Valley of the Fallen King."

Gwaine's face scrunched uncertainly and stopped ruffling the cat's fur."That's very vague Gaius...isn't there anything else that the ratty old tome says?"

"Well, I'm not all-knowing boy and that," the healer pointed again, "Is not a map"

The old man sighed and amended." Perhaps there will be an epitaph or an altar of some sort near the entrance. With any luck it should say it belonged to Áwerian"

"Perhaps we should take more men with us for this after all; we could spread out more knights and cover more ground... " Arthur said crossing his arms.

Merlin shook his head, "It would draw attention to Camelot if various groups of knights were heading there. It might also draw Morgana's attention and if she gets wind of Emrys' state..."The black haired youth hesitated, ran his fingers through his hair , "It would be wiser to draw attention away from the valley and maybe go through the valley in disguise."

The king stood up once more. "We leave by dawn tomorrow and I'll send a small troop and spread the word of finding the cure at the opposite direction of the valley."

He strolled towards the door and opened it before adding, "Don't forget to pack food and supplies for a week, we do not know how long we will stay there Merlin," Arthur nodded to them in lieu of bidding them good night as he left the three men in the room.

"You heard the king, you have a long week to prepare...of the bed with you," the old man shooed both the young men to bed.

* * *

He tossed and turned as the voices cried, screamed and begged. Why couldn't they understand that he didn't mean for this to happen.

The voices suddenly screech and he loses himself before he hears a familiar rumble but he cannot for the life of him recall who it is.

He rests peacefully while he concentrates on the soothing voice.

He later feels his stomach churn as he smells smoke, burning wood and the smell of death.

A sorcerer's death, filled with fire that ate and sizzled, cooked, grew,_ burned_!

Fire that leaves nothing but ashes and the smell...

The smell, the smell was different now. It reminded him of old magic, wisdom and comfort.

The sweet aroma of fresh air, or was it freedom and dewy grass?

He feels protected and entirely separated from his body. The voices are buried beneath the low rumble of a voice that told him of times where men rode noble creatures that flew over seas and skies.

It was a time of peace and a time of magic.

* * *

Three peasants rode at dawn in amiable silence. The eldest of the three asked the other two if they cared for a game of "I spy". The other two declined; one politely and the other one rudely.

The same man tried to think of another distraction and found one after the sky had begun to shed its last hues of pink. He asked if they had heard the tale of a woman and seven dwarfs. The other two frowned.

The leaner of the three who had a cat digging his claws on his shoulder, had been contemplating the sceneries that consisted in trees and more trees before he said quite amiably that he had not.

The fairest of them, simply said that he would rather not hear it at all.

The brunette, quite frankly, didn't care for the blond's opinion and spun a tale about a fair maiden with sensual red lips, hair as dark as the night, skin as pale as snow and a bosom that you could lose yourself in. She was the envy of her stepmother, who by the way was starting to sag, at this he pointed near his chest. The stepmother was a witch you see and...

And so it went until the blond snapped and asked if there was a point in all of this, as the roguish man near the end of the story with the prince that might have resembled the story-teller.

Well, the bearded man said, I've been wondering this for a while you see...my mother told me this story when I was a child...

Was it as...descriptive as this, the youngest of the three frown as he recalled the story, pink still dusting his cheeks.

No but I took it upon myself to make it more artful, he wriggled his eyebrows, do you think she had a fetish for small men and strenuous activities he asked with a lewd smile.

The three men never got the chance to discuss the finer points of the stories as bandits suddenly appeared. The bandits had been following them since high noon and they had been listening to the traveling bards. Or at least what they assumed as bards.

Why they always attacked at such inopportune times, they would never know, but the bandits always did regardless of their wants and need.

The rugged men asked for their moneys in exchange for their lives.

When the three men drew their swords and proved they actually were able to wield them, the bandits were understandably surprised.

When most of them were slain down, the leader was shocked and perplexed at how fragile tree branches were.

When he was interrogated about the layouts of the valley he was perplex but relayed the information as best he could.

It seemed whatever the...warrior bards were searching for was in the information he said.

He was threatened not to say anything or they would "hunt him down and make him wish he wasn't alive" the long-haired one promised.

The leader was cut loose and when he tried to avenge his comrades with a hidden knife he had found himself empty-handed.

The bandit had seen a lot of things in his days and he later would think that he might have had too much mead before encountering those three, but he would never forget the fear he felt when he heard a sorcerer and his cat talk in low voices to themselves and their synchronised flare of power coursing through their irises as they disarmed him.

He would never forget their soul piercing gaze.

One warned him of the possibility of losing his voice forever more, the other promised death, if he ever spoke a word of this. He meekly nodded and never told a soul.

* * *

"You never answered my question you know," pouted Gwaine.

"And we won't..." stressed the monarch. Rubbing his neck, he turned to the youngest,"Merlin, do you know what the curse is; I forgot to ask Gaius after...everything"

Merlin stared at the floor, his eyes casting a melancholic hue, "In a word...Insanity."

Night had fallen and after the minor incident with the bandits, they had a relatively relaxing ride.

They had made camp before they breached the territory that consisted of the valley, deciding it more prudent to scout in daylight. As it was, they had found a small clearing with trees surrounding them. A fire was light for a stew of hare meat and now they simply sat near it for comfort and warmth; for Courage and Strength at least.

Magic was sitting far from the source since he sat down a second time after washing the pots and utensils, while the king spread each of their cots and Gwaine tented to the horses.

The dragon turned cat had observed the monarch and the knight as they shot worried looks towards the direction of the nearest river. In fact, they were still casting subtle looks towards the warlock even after they had returned from their duties.

It would seem the young Pendragon and Sir Gwaine had seen the fatigue in the young warlock's countenance.

Kilgharrah stretched languidly before laying near Merlin's strewn legs, his paws brushing the man's feet.

Hare in a stew was surprisingly palatable, though he would normally eat it raw, some diversity was welcomed.

Closing his eyes, the temporary feline decided that insanity would not happened to the warlock if he had any say in the matter, but it was a possibility he could not ignore. It was progressing faster than he had anticipated perhaps the spell acted faster depending on the strength of the recipient.

Brown ears twitched as he heard a sigh and a slight shift of boots to his right, "How long do we have until the curse acts...or is it instantaneous?"

He feels the legs near him shuffle closer to the tall body and a rustle of fabric until a hand is behind his tail.

"Gaius says it's gradual, sometimes it starts with sounds, as if someone is near your ear and whispers or screams. It depends. Then, it only grows from there-" His voice hitches barely, imperceptible to the humans far from his charge, but he hears is and jumps on the space between his lap and stomach and settles there.

It angers him that he can do nothing to delay the smell and that he can no longer leave the side of the warlock for fear of his nightmare plaguing him.

His kin has grown on him and he cannot remember when it happened, but it had and he could do nothing to protect the dragonlord.

He can hear the knight's scepticism when he asks if the book went in-depth on the effects of the curse. Kilgharrah feels the warlock hesitate but he smoothly lies before they can doubt him any further.

"I saw a patient of Gaius once, he heard voices, and he said it started with someone murmuring to him. He insisted it wasn't all the time, but he told me that as time went one, they grew in numbers and were more insistent and...I just assumed it was similar to the curse" Merlin says with the right amount of meekness and embarrassment.

The young one is too close to his malady to think objectively so he closes his eyes and open their mind link.

"Young warlock, tread carefully with the king and the knight. Do not say more than you must, they are not as oblivious as you may think they are," he warns as he narrowed his eyes at the young man.

"I know...Kilgharrah, I'll be more careful next time...I'm just...not feeling very well right now. I'm just tired," his kin proves his point with a yawn, followed by his hands rubbing his eyes.

Strength's voice carried through the clearing imbued with worry, "Tired Merlin?"

"Yes, mind if I turn in and take the last watch?"

"Go ahead mate, princess and I'll take the first two," he grinned and looked at the King, who nodded and encourage the idea with a retort of his own," We wouldn't want you to faint like a girl because of lack of sleep."

As Merlin turned his back to the flames and his friends, Kilgharrah slid from his stomach and laid next to the back of the warlock's head, shielding him from view completely.

He guarded his kin from both types of illusion diligently, succeeding in preventing any moaning and any other physical manifestation of nightmares.

His breathing eventually evened out and the men started talking amongst themselves once more.

"Has Merlin looked a little...odd to you lately?" Ventured Strength, as Courage's face turned thoughtful.

"...Restless and less...cheerful, you mean?"

"And withdrawn...I mean he never says anything about himself, but now it seems to have..." He frowned and pursed his lips.

"Worsened you mean?" The blond knead his forehead," Yes I've notice, but extracting information from that idiot when he doesn't want to is perhaps as difficult as convincing him to take off that neckerchief."

"So we do nothing," the knight hissed, his voice carefully pitched to convey anger and low enough in pitch as to not disturb the young warlock.

"We watch out for him," the king growled, warning him to stand down," We wait and confront him once we know what is wrong with him..."

Strength deflated and pinned his eyes on the prone figure, "Do you think it has anything to do with this," he lifts his arm and makes a sweeping gesture of the world around them.

"I'm not sure...Gwaine...I really have no idea," the king says dejectedly.

* * *

Dawn came and went, two more times, as they followed the bandit's directions Kilgharrah and he had silently threatened. He felt tired and drained. Even with Kilgharrah at his side it had grown so much in strength that the shield could be pierced a few times in the day as well as the night.

As a result, his friends have been watching him more carefully. There was only so many ways to explain why he would flinch, try to cover his ears and nose.

" This valley has seen many bloodshed and is surrounded by magic, this could be nourishing the curse young warlock," the dragon stated, "I will shield the effects for as long as I can Merlin, but I cannot tell you how long it will last..."He finished regretfully.

"It's fine...Killy," he grinned as the latter whip slashed his tail on the nose of the human. Rubbing his nose and sneezing, Merlin grumbled under his breath, "I could drop you off my shoulder you know..."

"I might dig my claws deeper if you were to follow such a rash course of action," the fake cat reminded him matter of factly of their current position.

"I'm wounded Merlin, is Killy that better company than I am? Princess I can understand but me?"

"Well, he is a good listener..." He chuckled.

"And has a terrible temper," Kilgharrah gazed frigidly at Arthur, "Where in hell did you pick him up anyways," he replied, never one to stand down from a challenged, never mind it was issued by a cat.

"Arthur, leave Kilgharrah alone," Raising his eyebrow he asked," What has he done to you anyways?"

"What have you done Kilgharrah?" he communicated telepathically to the dragon.

"Nothing," was the dual toned answer.

Merlin sighed loudly and conveyed his thoughts to his kin, "Really why are you provoking him?"

"You have your amusements, I have mine," he felt, rather than saw, the cat's lips upturned into a mockery of a smile.

Shaking his head, the warlock stared up ahead and urged his horse to go faster. They had seen dead ends and other resting places of long forgotten kings, but they had seen nothing that might have been to their elusive author, nothing but the occasional skirmish with other bandits.

So lost in his though was he that he didn't feel the change of the sounds of the hooves of his horse. The sounds went from soft and somewhat muted steps to the clanking and prolonged sounds of stone.

He only noticed when the horse suddenly stopped.

Merlin looked down and saw another tomb in the middle of a deserted clearing, patches of weed valiantly thriving between cracks. Further away were old dark trees that stood menacingly around the resting place, roots slightly protruding and mingling with untamed herbs and grass.

This tomb differed from the others -eerie landscape aside- it had no grand archway with carefully laid stones and statues crafted delicately announcing the resting place of a monarch, it was a simple and humble.

The hole was as wide, as it was long and could fit two horses, side by side, quite easily with room to spare. Stone with symbols of the old religion carved into each of them speaking of protection and danger to intruders, framed the underground entrance.

An endless staircase was the only thing one could see from the entrance of the tomb, before this too was swallowed by darkness.

For all its simplicity, he could practically taste the electric magic that mingled with the musty smell emanating from the entrance. He could feel the pulse of power from each symbol resonating with his.

The horse neighed and bucked restlessly the longer he stayed near it.

"Merlin..."

He could feel the muscles of the creature perched on his shoulder tense and he could feel pinpricks nearly breaking his skin.

"-lin"

He could feel the energy from this very tomb and it silenced everything.

And he could only smell mold and magic...

"Me-"

The young man got off his horse with suprising grace, ignoring how as soon as he left it, it spooked and ran from his master, and peered closer to the glowing sigils on the stone. They glowed softly and he couldn't help himself. He crouched next to the first symbol carved intricately on one of the many stone guarding the tomb.

If he could only touch it and examine it...

"MERLIN!"

He hissed in pain and batted the offending thing of his shoulder, the action making him lose his balance and making his rear connect with the stone surface. He pressed lightly on the puncture wounds as his darkened blue irises stalked the pest that was warily circling the sigils...He swiftly raises his hand a thought on the tip of his mind, before he hears a piercing shriek as a cool breath snuffs out the sigils...

"Kilgharrah...?" He croaks, horrified at what he was about to do.

"It is fine Merlin...I am sorry for the wounds but they were necessary," he says, feline lips curving and enunciating each word slowly for his addled mind.

He kneels in front of the tomb gathering what is left of his scattered memories before he hears the distinctive draw of metal.

"A talking fire-breathing cat, Merlin," the low voice whispers and grabs him from the scruff of his neck. The figure stands protectively in front of him, and he can only see peasant's pants and the hunched defensive pose of his kin.

The sword is pointed towards the feline, "Mind telling me who you really are Killy?"

"It would be wise to lower your sword Strength and use your namesake to defend young Merlin from other things than his allies..."

The brown tabby sits elegantly and cocks his head expectantly.

Gwaine lowers his sword, but his stance still towers defensively over his kneeling friend.

Merlin slowly gets his knees to support his weight and ignores his shaking legs. He manages to get up and would have fallen back down if not for the steady hand on his back.

"Gwaine," He shudders a breath and he feels the concern from his friend by his taut feature. He knows he is far to pale, and his eyes have to many bags under them, "Kilgharrah is my," kin, a creature of the old religion like I am, he was many things, but he settled for something else. Merlin's bright eyes pleads for understanding as he utters, "friend. I promised you I would tell you everything, when I felt ready didn't I?"

Gwaine's grip tightened as Merlin swayed and his brows furrowed upwards.

"I guess I don't have that luxury, but I'll tell you very soon, just not now..." He peered over his shoulder as Arthur joined them leading his runaway horse back with him. Gwaine mimicked the movement and pressed his lips together in a thin line. Sighing he gives a cheeky grin to Arthur and snatches Kilgharrah out from the ground.

The only thing Arthur hears as he nears the pair, is his knight talking under his breath to the cat about a truce involving no nipping at his fingers if he ever tries to pet him again.

* * *

**Okay, hopefully it's not too confusing and I hope I didn't confuse some events from season 4...Anyways remember to leave a review!**


	6. Interlude

**Interlude **

* * *

"At sunrise everything is luminous but not clear."  
― Norman Maclean, _A River Runs Through It and Other Stories_

* * *

Gwaine had taken the first shift and had long since fallen asleep. Not willing to wake Merlin for his turn, King Arthur Pendragon decided to stay awake until dawn and take on the burden of tending to the fire and surveying their surroundings.

He silently cursed the coarse material that made for his new clothes which were ill-fitting at best. His gaze flickered to the sleeping servant and made a mental note to give him new clothes that were more adequate for long hunts and travelling.

Sighing softly, he watched has the elfin face shifted through myriads of emotions. What could he be dreaming that warranted such an expression?

Just as soon as it came, the young man's once creased brow smoothed and the few drops of water that managed to slipped through his tightly closed lids dried as his pet curled closer to the man's face.

He probably would have mocked Merlin for snuggling closer to the cat, like a girl, were it not for his concern over the aggravating youth.

Shaking his head, he moved slowly towards the frail man and draped his own warmer sheet over Merlin's ratty one, after making sure none but the demon cat would see him.

As it was, said demon cat's eyes never wavered from his from, in fact the quadruped seemed poised to charge in a moment's notice; and Merlin thought _he_ could be overprotective...

Pinned under its gaze, he couldn't help justifying his actions.

"Look, I'm not planning to hurt him," he whispered rubbing his neck, "I want to help him, but the idiot doesn't let me."

Arthur's looked up at the slowly brightening sky, soft red piercing the tree branches and leaves, illuminating everything in its passage while leaving the rest in shadows.

"How do you do it? Why does he have complete trust in you but not…"

He sighed heavily. How low had he sunk for him to be jealous of a stray Merlin had picked up on a whim.

Arthur turned his head away from the heavens and looked down again on earth, where nothing was perfect, but everyone strived to make the most of what they had.

The cat had straightened attentively and lifted its chin towards the monarch, its nose pale from the cold. The animal then proceeded to twitch its ears towards the steady rise and fall of its master's chest, exaggerating the movement as if to prove a point.

"Wait and listen?" Maybe that's what it seemed to insinuate.

Waiting and listening was all very good: he had said the same thing in different words. Though he did add confronting Merlin once he got the gist of everything to the list.

One question remained however: what if he never puzzled everything out, then what?

Arthur coolly examined the intelligent feline, that waited in infinite patience. Great, he was slowly losing his mind or he was simply projecting his thoughts on it. Nevertheless, it was therapeutic to bounce ideas to something that couldn't quite judge you.

Something told him that wasn't the case for this particular quadruped. There was something about it...He smothered a laugh, it figured that any pet of Merlin would have a the master's charm? No not quite, it and he for that matter had that certain je ne sais quoi...

Putting his earlier thought's aside and his achievement of using his long forgotten language studies, the king mulled the cat's advice. It proved fruitless as he recalled many scenarios of the man acting idiotically and only a handful of occasion that called for his undivided attention on the man's welfare or speeches.

"Listen for what exactly; all he does is prattle about non important things!" he eventually replied petulantly, still mindful of the sleeping men.

Scratch that, the cat would and was judging him if it's slanted eyes and it's raised upper lip were anything to go by.

"You have something to say Kilgharrah?" he crouched and leaned closer to the tabby, their nose almost touching.

Gods he was picking a fight with an irritating furball and it was currently threatening him.

"Have you ever heard what he says? Half of the time he's spouting excuses or still hung-over from his trip to the tavern!"

He saw the cat sniff contemptuously at his arguments, and its face showed openly its disinterest.

Relenting he sat on the ground, with a posture unbefitting of a King. "So I still listen to him and delve deeper? Pick at his excuses and ask directly how he's doing?"

He pressed his lips together and unconsciously bit them in reflection. Dealing with Merlin meant having to dredge up all his dusty emotional understanding.

"Fine, let's say I do ask him that, then what? Like I told Gwaine, when Merlin doesn't want to talk he really makes it a point by deflecting…It's not like I can corner him…"

Wait, that might be the solution to everything, corner Merlin and...

The king muffled his yelp of surprise and held his injured knee. "A simple no would have sufficed; there was no need to bloody scratch me!"

He lowly cursed at how his pitch rose at the end of his sentence and glanced over the sleeping figures that were thankfully still facing the fire, thankfully unaware of his outburst.

It took him a moment to compose himself and later realize –again- that he was discussing and arguing with a hell spawn.

"Fine listen and wait it is. I'm thinking you believe I should wait untill Merlin is ready?"

The cat stared at him with a smug expression, not quite smiling, but pretty close to it.

"You know, I'm still not sure what I did to deserve such loyalty from him," he mused as the morning breeze ruffled his hair.

"He goes to unimaginable lengths for me. Never once have I seen a servant willing to give his life for me," he continued.

"Frankly, it scares me that he thinks so little of his life. You know he claims his life is less important than mine. Logically, a King is worth more than a peasant, and yet, a King is nothing without his people. They're both important…"

The cat stays silent, but looks far to knowing about his worries. He can't help but feel like he's confiding to an elder as he sees the being assessing the man's every word and movement.

He could practically see that the being was thinking of how to respond to everything he was saying and somehow he wasn't bothered by the calculating scrutiny.

"Besides, I don't think the idiot realizes how much…"

The sentence is left to be swept away by the wind and silence. Even after so many years, he is still uncomfortable of voicing his feelings to an audience, regardless of it being made of trees and small critters.

Because saying it out loud makes it all the more real and it has such finality to it. He knows rationally that it doesn't change the hard cold fact that he values Merlin but if he utters it, he can no longer delude himself that he would be fine _if_ -because he can't and won't accept a _when-_ something happens to Merlin.

As one both man and feline glanced at the rays of sunshine, now a cheery yellow, reaching out to them and warming them at the same time; it was time to get up and start their journey anew.

"I guess I don't have to say this but…protect Merlin will you?"

Kilgharrah nods imperceptibly and a silent conversation passes between them.

Arthur decides to turn a blind eye over the animal he can no longer think as a mere cat. He's pretty sure it's magical and he wouldn't be surprised if it could talk, but he trusts it to protect Merlin and that's enough for him to pretend he is oblivious.

After all, Camelot's law couldn't touch what he didn't know was magical.

He runs his fingers through his greasy hair and gets up to rouse Gwaine from the dead. He smirks as he kicks off the knight's covers and drawls obnoxiously one of Merlin's favorite morning greetings, earning him a rightful glower.

They pack up and prepare breakfast, one of them hunts, the other cooks and the last one remains blissfully asleep.

It falls to the king to wake the loyal big eared fool and drag him near the hearty fire and stew.

They eat and they banter off, steal each other's food, while subtly putting more in Merlin's bowl while he isn't looking, and in that instant, all four forget their stations; they forget their preoccupations and are simply living in the moment.

Even if they walk a dangerous path, even if uncertainties paved the road and the future is unclear: Arthur couldn't help but smile and think that at least they aren't alone in this and every other venture.

* * *

**A/N: Here's a piece offering. I really want to have more Arthur and Kilgharrah action but without the former knowing (officially) of the latter's magical propriety, it's kind of hard to pull off.**

**I know Arthur probably doesn't speak French, or maybe he does for political reasons or for his education I don't know! Even if he does it's probably not the French of our time, but roll with me on this! **

**Fear not though, the next chapter is under way as I'm mostly over my writers block. **

**Hopefully this filler wasn't that bad...**


	7. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin!**

* * *

Arthur ground his teeth in frustration as he saw his knight urge his mare to gallop faster towards the direction the frighten mare had come from, leaving him to have the daunting task of tending to the horses.

He knew he shouldn't have left the servant go ahead on his own; the man was inclined to get into danger, even with the most mundane tasks.

He silently cursed that he could see nothing but thick trees and bushes from his vantage point.

Well that and the beaten earth that turned sharply to where the Gods only knew where.

He would chew them out for this, he sighed, sometimes he wondered if he ought to be happy or despaired that his subordinates regarded him as just Arthur the man and not the sovereign.

A shout that he did not recognise drew him away from his rumination and soon he too followed Gwaine's example, dreading what he would find.

As he neared the depressing clearing he slowly got of his horse and tied both near the exhausted knight's horse. His hand firmly held on the pommel of his sword.

A quick look of the clearing left him baffled. There was no trace of a battle, nor another man within their midst but there were traces of sorcery if the stones were anything to go by.

He strode purposefully towards them, dismayed at Gwaine's juvenile behaviour but quickly amended his judgment when he glanced over Merlin.

"What on earth happened?" The king asked sharply as he eyed his knight and servant, who looked like a mere breeze could topple him over.

"Destiny, life..." began the frail looking man, before cheekily adding, "you among many other things."

To his credit, Arthur didn't even break his determined strides nor did he bat an eyelash at that comment, a testament to how often Merlin enjoyed riling him in the most bizarre ways. He narrowed his eyes and waited for his explanation.

"Merlin..."He warned and pinched his nose.

"You really have no sense of humour do you?" he leans his head to the side and sits on his haunches, careful not to touch the stone were the sigil once laid.

Wearily the young man pushed his palms on his eyes and exhales a long breath, "I think I triggered some sort of trap," he says shifting his position to a more comfortable one on the ground, "I was careless, I was warned not to underestimate the protections around the tomb..."

The royal crosses his arms and studied the form of his friend, who was now staring at his boots as if they held all the answers of the world.

The blond hesitate slightly before casting away his royal pride and sitting next to the man who is more-than-just-a-servant. He longs to understand why one stone has a thin layer of ice, that shines a pale blue, and why there is a charred circle around the tomb.

He also wants to know if there was anyone else with him...or maybe the question was if something had intervene...Either way, _wait and listen_ it told him so wait and listen he would.

They sit shoulder to shoulder and the king waits for a few heart beats before the other whispers softly his story. "I think it was meant to react to intruders," he does not say that he is almost certain the intruders it targets are one possessing magic. It possibly locked on his magical signature, dismissing Kilgharrah's as he was not human.

Not for the first time, he was glad he had asked the dragon for help. Had Kilgharrah not contained and deactivated the sigils, he might have...

Shuddering, he dismissed his pessimistic thoughts and twisted the truth with expert ease, "It targets intruders that mean to loot or harm this resting place in any way. I was saved by Gwaine's quick thinking."

He points towards the knight and the captured feline, who were still having a face-off, leaving both king and servant with a little privacy.

The king closed his eyes, knowing there was more to the story, but unwilling to prod further. He wills himself not to ask how his knight's quick thinking resulted in that clear act of sorcery. He pushes away his incredulity and resolves to blindly trust in Merlin's weak explanation.

After all, it wasn't the first time he looked the other way for his servant's sake and it wouldn't be the last he muses bitterly, hurt by the fact that their trust is mostly one-sided.

Arthur looks towards the bleak sky and notes that despite everything, it was only midday.

"We will take a break here before continuing," he tosses his gourd of water to Merlin. "Drink, I'll go see if there's anything to hunt." He sits up and dusts his pants, careful not to shower Merlin with the thin powder of soil.

He turns to leave only to stop and glance down at Merlin with a meticulously constructed blank expression, "Merlin...is Gwaine talking with your cat?"

Interestingly, Merlin's eyes widened a fraction and turned his head with break-necking speed.

The king internally winced as he heard a popping sound.

Gwaine was indeed laughing gleefully at the cat, who wore an all-too-human expression.

Slowly, perhaps mindful of his neck, the servant smiled tremulously.

Rubbing his eyes, the king muttered something along the lines of perhaps including a mental health examination as a prerequisite to all who aspired to be a Knight of Camelot.

"Just tell him to set up camp."

Arthur shook his head and put as much distance to Merlin as he could while still retaining a clear view of the glade. He casted one last fleeting look towards the cat and breathed out, before disappearing in a canopy of trees.

"If it could talk, why didn't it do so before?"

He pauses and then mentally berates himself. Why would it expose itself as magical to the son of Uther Pendragon? He had not exactly inspired forgiveness and tolerance towards their kind after all, the druids being the only exception.

Though to be fair, neither had any of the beasts that had attacked him as a prince and now, as a king. He had cast away, for now, his beliefs about such creatures for Merlin and so he ignored his uneasy conscience.

* * *

"A dragon"

A beat and an irate huff escaped the feline.

"Yes"

"As in breathing fire on a town in a righteous fury, while soaring in the sky and roaring - That kind of dragon-"

"Are you mocking me or are you really that foolish?"

Kilgharrah's eyes simmer with suppressed anger at the position he was currently being held. Both of the human's hands are under his front legs, thus permitting the other to have a view of his overall appearance while keeping a safe distance from of his temperamental claws.

Not deigning to answer the rhetorical question, Strength carried on, "You're The Great Dragon." The statement is punctured with a slight shaking of the animal in his hands.

With rekindled hope, the dragon nods.

As quickly as it came, his hope is snuffed out as the man before him cackles in glee.

"Say I believe you, why are you helping Merlin?" The knight tilts his head slightly as his lips battled with his emotions. The cat blinks and responds without hesitation, surprising the human.

"He is my kin."

Gwaine sobers up and held the other beings eyes. He can't help but notice how the supposed dragon's voice slightly warms and his body takes a defensive posture.

"It's always the simple answers that hold the most complex emotions isn't it?" the brunette muses; perhaps it wasn't true for normal day-to-day conversions, but in his experience, it usually held true with heart to hearts...

He lets the cat – dragon he corrects – on the withered grass and nonchalantly sits in front of it.

"You said kin; I'm guessing Merlin isn't a dragon with an unfortunate scale shedding disease, so Dragonlord?"

"You would be correct." Noticing Strength's furrowed brow, he forestalled his question by continuing."Uther," he spat," Did not kill all the Dragonlords, but that is not my story to tell."

"It is mine to do so," Gwaine looks up and sees Merlin, still pale with dark rings under his eyes, but thankfully not looking like he would keel over in the next few seconds.

"Arthur thinks you're insane and wants us to set up camp," he blurts out, flashing him a grin that does not reach his eyes.

"I'm pretty sure he didn't ask you to do anything," he pats the younger man's shoulder and forces him to sit down next to Kilgharrah. Sensing an argument bubbling up in the other's throat, he ruffles the dishevelled dark hair of Merlin.

"Take this time to relax mate and," he fidgets not quite meeting the young man's gaze, "tell me what you feel up to sharing..."

A contemplative silence stretches as Gwaine goes to fetch wood to build a fire and is broken by a yawn.

"How much do you plan to tell him young warlock?" Kilgharrah inquires, his whiskers parting in apprehension.

Scrubbing his eyes the warlock sighs. "I'm not sure...I don't think its right for him to know about my magic yet...not before Arthur but..."

"It would make this task easier..." His ear flicked as the cracking sounds of twigs snapping became louder with each approaching steps.

"Whatever you choose young warlock, I will follow your lead..."

Gwaine saunters over his arms full of wood and twigs and lays them down methodically, before framing the pile with rocks.

Merlin's eyes trailed his every movement; flickers of gold could be seen flashing if one would stare long enough at his irises.

The warlock could feel his body tense in preparation of everything he would say at the same time his magic rose due to his acute emotional state. He mentally went through every speech prepared once upon a time for this type of occasion but he couldn't dredge up anything, or at least couldn't remember any through the roaring of his heart in his ears.

He briefly wondered, as he wiped his sweaty hands on his trouser, when it was that telling his secret became a burden and a stressing situation instead of a relief?

He noticed his friend's movements stopped and gazed at him with open concern.

Merlin quickly ducked his head and hid another panic induced magical flare. He realised he was behaving irrationally; Gwaine would not tell a soul about his secrets, neither would his opinion of him change but, a part of him whispered that he should never show this part of him and it cynically added that he could never be sure without a doubt that Gwaine wouldn't react badly.

He felt the rogue kneel before him and claps his shoulders gently.

"Mate, you don't have to if you're not..."

"Its fine, I'm fine," he said abruptly cutting, the older man off.

He faced the other with steady determination and slowly raised his arm towards the unlit _- I don't want to die! Please don't light the pyre! - _kindle and whispers one word as his eyes shined treasonously.

"Forbearnan"

Immediately he could feel his magic release itself and curl around the twigs, obeying his wish and springing eager flames to life.

The stunt silence that followed had Merlin searching Gwaine's features for anything that could tell what his friend was thinking about and then, a strange calm settled on Merlin's mind for everything was out in the open and they could only move forward.

He almost broke the growing silence with every story he had held close to his heart, almost, but didn't, aware that what he was feeling was simply brought on by the moment.

Gwaine still kneeling in front of his frail friend– well he wasn't really a frail and defensive friend anymore now was he- couldn't stop the second wave of gleeful cackle that exploded out of him.

He threw his head backwards and with that gained momentum, the half-crazed man flopped down in front of his shocked audience.

"Mate!" he choked out between his chortles, "Why did you keep it a secret for so long! The things we could have done!"

The man sniffed and flicked stray tears with his thumb. He noted that both practitioners of the old religion were still somewhat stunned, though Killy less so, having had a piece of his unorthodox humour a few moments ago.

"Close your mouth mate, 'less you want to eat flies," he said good-naturedly. "Much better," he said when Merlin snapped his jaws close.

"You know, I get why you didn't want to say it, what with Camelot still forbidding anything to do with this." Merlin shifted and nodded.

"I didn't want you to choose between the law and..."

"Merlin mate, I would never choose the law," he rolled his eyes, "I can't even remember the last time I didn't break it."

"Young warlock, you must learn to accept a loss cause," Kilgharrah shook his head and looked up to Camelot's finest.

"There is more to this tale than what we said, though this, you must know: Stay alert Sir Knight for many traps await both sorcerers and the average person."

"Something like what just happen might occur again, is that right Kilgharrah?"

The dragon acquiesced turning to his Dragonlord, "I fear I will not be sufficient to prevent you from exposing yourself to the young Pendragon."

"So that's where I come in?" Gwaine ran his finger through his beard.

Before Kilgharrah could answer, the creature sharply looked over towards the direction Arthur had gone and quickly resumed the role of the non-talking cat.

Bemused, both men turned to the same spot and saw a figure approaching their improvised resting spot with –Oh joy- bunnies again slung on his shoulder.

Well, at least they would eat something and prepare, namely wear the chainmail they had stacks in their packs.

* * *

"You know, I think there's more stairs here than there are to get to our towers!" a masculine voice exclaimed, deep into the underground entrance, his voice reaching the others as an echo.

"Don't be absurd, Gwaine, It can't possibly be that deep!"

"Well, Princess, I can bet you a tankard of ale it is!"

"He has a point Arthur we've been walking for a very long time..." The black-haired man paused on a step and looked back.

The entrance could be barely seen from where he stood: it was now a mere pinprick of light ensnared between grey and rusty streaked rocks.

Merlin held the torch towards the blonde, as it was, it barely lit up Arthur's shadowed features, but from what he could see, the man was frowning.

"That doesn't make sense, the end is right there," he points passed Gwaine's and Kilgharrah's retreating figure to a badly lit room of some sort that laid half hidden by the low ceiling.

"It's always been there Arthur...Maybe...Maybe we haven't been making actual progress yet..."

"What?" came Gwaine's incredulous response, he stayed in place, still engulfed in darkness, though his general whereabouts could be seen, as two floating eerie orbs reflected the blazing fire from atop the man's shadowed shoulder.

"Is this one of your funny feelings again Merlin?" The voice next to him said acerbically.

"Don't you feel anything?"

"I feel hot air coming from bellow and humidity," He wiped his brow and started walking anew, snatching the torch from Merlin's hand. "I'm pretty sure that's what you're feeling Merlin," he called out.

"That's not what I meant you dollophead!" He hollered while he sat on the steps to think for a little while, still surprised the king hadn't said anything about the overpowering metallic scent that permeated the air.

"As I recall, dollophead meant Prince Arthur, seeing as I am no longer a Prince, I'm afraid dollophead doesn't apply to me anymore."

Trust Arthur to grow a brain now of all times, he thought petulantly as he leaned on his hands.

"I mean it you clotpole, something's not right!" He silently cursed as the lights grew further away from him, thus leaving giant shadows behind him.

Scratching his head Merlin got up and traced the wall's surface with his hand, feeling every bumps and cavity along the way. The rough texture scraped his calloused fingers until suddenly, he could feel streaks of a substance that was warm and sticky to touch.

Alarmed, the warlock drew his hand away from the wall and experimentally rubbed his index and thumb in small circles.

He could feel the liquid spread on his hand and drip slowly down his arm.

Morbid curiosity pushed his next actions: he followed the stream of liquid with his hands pressed on the wall and eventually traced it to the source. Tears snaked down his cheeks as a combination of putrid flesh and copper aroma meshed together.

Merlin squinted his eyes and crouched to get a better view and soon regretted the action, as he stumbled upon a man sitting on a puddle of blood, if the oder and the squelching noise Merlin made as he shifted, were to be believed.

He approached the man cautiously and choked as the man's arm darted to tightly grip his neckerchief and draw the thin man closer to him.

Hot breaths puffed next to his ears, and Merlin shivered slightly when the man's lips, still cast in shadows, moved next to the sensitive skin. He squirmed and pulled at the iron grip on his clothing article and freed himself successfully.

The young man backed away as quickly as he could, only to be ripped again by his neck as he gasped for air.

"You lose, Emrys" his lips stretched upwards on his ears, drawing out his name, as if savouring the word on his tongue.

Merlin stiffed and he tried in vain to break the hold on his neck, managing only to break the other's skin under his finger nails.

He heard himself draw rapid short breaths and in fear, he let his tightly closed magic do its work. Merlin felt his eyes burn and felt the hands around his neck loosen and fall on the ground with a soft splash.

He dimly realise that his vision was sharper with his magic unleashed, rather than tightly coiled around him, as he finally saw past the shadow of the man to the rotten flesh that pealed of him like leaves, exposing muscles and bones for the world to see.

The physician part of him informed him that the man should be in extreme pain and that treating the wounds should be paramount, though judging by the red streaks extending around the flaking skin and the swelling, infection had already set in.

The less practical part of him simply wondered how the man could even smile at him; thoroughly disturbed, Merlin took a reflexive step back and almost missed a step had it not been for the strong arms holding him up.

"Merlin?"

The physician's apprentice released the breath he hadn't known he was holding and leaned on Gwaine's chest.

"What is it young warlock?"

Merlin opened his eyes – when had he closed them? - and parted his lips to answer, only to let out a choked breath.

In front of him, where the man had once mocked him, was nothing: no blood, no shadow, not even a rat, just dinted grey stones splashed with a bit of rusty coloured dirt.

"Merlin mate what's wrong," he felt the hands on his arms increase their pressure.

His knees felt weak and his mouth hypersalivated. Merlin swallowed convulsively and hunched over himself, willing himself to calm down. He could taste an acidic liquid creeping up his throat –bile his ever-present physician side reminded him- and his stomach churned in protest.

If that wasn't the tale-tell sign of throwing up, he would renounce his title of apprentice to Gaius.

Thankfully for him and Gwaine's boots, there was no rabbit stew on the floor and he sighed, relieved that he had managed to calm himself.

"Kilgharrah," Merlin asked in a low trembling voice, not bothering to mask his drained state.

He felt twin gazes on him, so he assumed he had their attention and decided against explaining the incident that had just occurred: it was something he didn't want to share, not now anyways.

He needed time to accept what it meant and now was not the time for brooding. So instead, he turned all his mental capacity to the situation at hand.

"Did you feel like we crossed a barrier or threshold of some kind?" He felt Gwaine release him and turn him over and press a warm hand against his clammy forehead.

The knight almost argued about the change of subject but refrained as he saw what seemed to be a pinched expression. Both man and dragon gave, in Merlin's opinion, a piercing look, he couldn't really be sure, telling him it would be put aside but not forgotten.

"You think something's keeping us here?" The roguish man blurted out, leaning back on the nearest wall.

The youngest vocally acquiesced while he reached and grabbed blindly for Kilgharrah's body, accidentally patting Gwaine's arm.

Perched once again on Merlin, the cat closed its eyes and stretched out its senses, while part of its magic spread like a balm on the Dragonlord's frayed nerves. It was both soothing and protective, much like a cool summer breeze. Perhaps with this reinforcement, there would be a larger delay between the episodes at worst. At best, it would not surface for at least a day.

"It is likely we have been walking on the same few steps as before," Came Kilgharrah's halting explanation which snapped the young man back to reality.

"We're sent back to the starting point of the barrier each time then?" Gwaine stated matter-of-factly.

"It would seem so," said a low baritone behind them. As one all three turned to see Arthur come down the stairs, illuminating the ways with each step.

Merlin's eye widened and once again felt his heart thunder under his chest. The ruler of Camelot sighed, "Save it, Merlin, I suspected as much."

He continued and grimaced, "Sorry to say that your conversation was painfully loud."

"Arthur, Kilgharrah's..."

"Just a cat, I know, do you take me for a fool Merlin?" he arched his eyebrow meaningfully and stared pointedly at each of them, praying the cat understood he was given a chance to prove itself.

Beaming, Gwaine slung an arm over Merlin, "The princess is right mate: it's just a cat."

Smiling softly, the manservant nodded gratefully at the winking Gwaine and the smirking king.

Hopefully that was enough surprises for today; Merlin really doubted his heart couldn't handle anything more for the day.

Turning to Kilgharrah, Arthur uneasily asked, "How do we get out from these never-ending stairs?"

Undeterred, the cat met the conflicted eyes head on.

"We must find the source of the enchantment," the concealed dragon simply replied.

The king rolled his eyes and interrogated the feline further. "How pray tell are we to find them?"

"Such spell needs two objects or symbols at each end in order to be able to erect a strong barrier."

"I doubt it's an object,though, it would have stood out," Merlin sweeps his hand in a low semi-arc, showing the narrow staircase.

"Are you saying, that we have to press our hands on the wall until we feel a drawing-like depression on it? What if it's just painted, what then?" Blowing a breath, Gwaine scratches his head. "Hate to say it Killy but we don't have the time for that," He grimaces lightly.

The cat's head tilts in amusement, a ghost of a smirk playing on its feline lips.

"There will be no need to probe each stone with your hands Sir Knight: I can direct you to its general area."

Sighing in relief, each man followed Arthur as he lead them to the threshold and waited for Kilgharrah's confirmation before searching the small vicinity of the region pointed out by the latter.

Merlin sits on a lower step, still near the older men, and waits for them to finish the search. He had decided to stay far away from the walls under the pretence of someone having to hold the light for them to see. At their unimpressed looks, he plays the clumsy card: if he joined them, he would be far more likely to stumble and miss a step while looking for the dented stone.

Both swordsmen look at him bemusedly but they say nothing and accept his excuses as their face slowly adopt their corresponsive version of alarmed looks.

Merlin crestfallenly realises that he really should stop babbling when he says a straight-faced lie.

He peeks under his long lashes at each face, to his left Arthur's eyebrows upturn slightly and his mouth tightens. He is no longer facing the warlock, but his body language screams "I'm pretending not to worry but I'm a breath away of shoving my pride away to interrogate you".

He appreciates the sentiment but he'd rather not have to deal with it now.

He leans to his right and he is startled to see Gwaine examining him without bothering to hide the concern flashing in his brown eyes. He smiles reassuringly at the patented "I know something's wrong mate, who or what do I have to beat to help you" gaze.

Momentarily placated, the brunette returns to his task and thankfully, after a few random swipes, both men find the symbols carved into their respective stone, and under the supervision of Kilgharrah, they carve other lines on the existing groove, diffusing part of the powerful magic.

The invisible wall causing their dilemma, shudders and starts pulsing rapidly, before settling to a low hum, its magic swirling hectically, signalling its instability.

Both creatures of the old religion stare warily into space, before Kilgharrah warns them not to cross that particular section.

"Why not, wouldn't it be faster to cross it? It should lead us to the bottom," argues Arthur, still a bit unsettled with the idea of talking about magic as a useful tool.

"It is unstable, young Pendragon, it would be too dangerous to cross it as it is..."

Accepting that the creature would say no more, Arthur sheathed his knife and began leading the way to the last wall.

It takes longer for them to reach it and they do so in awkward silence: they all knew they should explain the presence of the talking cat to the King, even if said man had shown clemency towards it.

For once, noticing the tension, Arthur suddenly spoke. "We will have plenty of time to discuss this when we are no longer stuck in here."

It didn't take long to find the other set of emblem. After repeating the same process of diffusing the spell, the humming slowly turned into a high pitch screech, causing the group to grind their teeth and cover their ears. As soon as it came, the shrill sound disappeared along with a visible wall that seemed to be blackening and burning slowly, like paper.

Shaking out of his stupor at the open display of magic, Arthur slowly takes the torch from Merlin's hands and waves it where the barrier used to be. When nothing happens, the king exhales loudly, having unconsciously held his breath, and looks at the others while slanting his head towards the few steps left.

Gwaine whispers things about impatient ladies and winks at Merlin before following the blond's lead.

The warlock stays put a smile tugging at his lips as he watches both men banter, before he plops down, the cat still nestled on him, and senses for other traps on the dwindling stairs and he is grateful he feels nothing. He stretches, a few bones popping, before steeling himself to informing Kilgharrah of his state of mind.

_"Kilgharrah,"_ he opens his mind link and idly plays with a loose blue thread from his sleeves.

The cat is resting his head on the left shoulder. He does not need to flicks his ears towards Emrys, but it does so anyways, prompting the other to go on, as his tail swish back and forth grazing his shirt.

_ "I think it's gotten worse. I'm seeing things that should not be here and I don't understand why I do!"_ His speech becomes more rapid as his nervousness bleeds through each sentence. _"This isn't Camelot, I know there are imprints of magic and death here, but I have no memory of any deaths here at all!"_

Merlin is breathing harshly though his nose and his fingers quake.

_"You are Emrys, young warlock,"_ Kilgharrah starts tentatively as he emitted a wave that reminded Emrys of fresh water trickling in the back of his mind, soothing and calming him.

_"Perhaps, the fact that you are magic makes your own set of memory irrelevant to the curse,"_ the dragon proposes.

_"What do you mean?"_

The cat slides of the shoulder and sits on the step next to Merlin, staring ahead.

_"The old religion is everywhere and it is essential to all living things,"_ it explains in a tutor like voice,_ "If you are its embodiment, then perhaps the memory held by magic is transmissible to you, thus compensating for your lack of memory."_

Merlin shuts his eyes and leans his forehead heavily on his clasped hands, elbows digging on his knees.

_"I feel so honoured to have spells react abnormally to me,"_ he mutters covering his spiking fear under his spiteful wit.

At the questioning silence, the Dragonlord can't resist but add, _"Really, I can't die from the Dorocha's touch, not instantly anyways, I can't be seduced by a Lamia and I can see and sense things that others cannot. It's useful,l but sometimes..."_

_"Sometimes it feels like a curse,"_ the dragon continues ever insightful.

Sighing, Merlin nods and blabblers on, _"I can see a trend here can you? Magic doesn't act normally around me and treats me with all kinds of surprises. Come to think of it, I'm surprised no one has questioned this before."_

He pauses and looks up, pursing his lips, _"Actually, maybe they have. Gwen looked at me oddly after the Lamia incident and then she told me that whomever I chose to be with, she would always be supportive...I wonder what she meant..."_

He can feel the amusement rolling of in waves from his companion and looks down questioningly but his kin offers no justification. Shrugging he finishes his internal conversation, _"Though honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if everyone just assumed my oddities were due to my non-existing mental affliction."_

_"Nevertheless, Merlin, you are who you are meant to be and are worthy of such power, no matter what anyone thinks of you. Do not let yourself be told otherwise,"_ the quadruped reassures, sensing the doubt budding within Merlin.

Shooting the cat a dazzling smile, Merlin shoots up and runs to catch up to the others. He loses himself momentarily in the gentle rhythm of his steps and is just as suddenly shaken out of his daze, with a sudden sense of vertigo. He realises, in that instant, that fate had a tendency of proving him wrong on the most absurd of things.

In this case, fate decided to prove he had a mental affliction as he missed a step, thus bumping into Gwaine, who unfortunately could not find purchase on the stone that made up the inner wall, and eventually fell on the unsuspecting back of one Arthur Pendragon.

They crossed the rest of the staircase in a tangle of limps, rolling and hitting head, shoulders and any body part really, against the painfully sharp corners of the few steps left.

* * *

"Welcome," breathed multiple voices as a warm gust rose from deep within the resting ground.

Kilgharrah narrowed his eyes and manoeuvred around of the tangles of limbs splayed on the floor.

He observed his surroundings quietly, filtering the grunts, moans and the bickering of the humans as they shoved and untangled themselves, in favour of listening to the disembodied voice resonating on the stones.

"Did you hear that?" Merlin's voice wavered with hesitation, finally stumbling off Gwaine, and leaning on the wall framing the entrance, his right hand spread in front of the stairs.

"The creepy voices you mean? Can't say that I did, Princess?" Gwaine joked, his voice slightly strained with pain, refusing to budge.

"Don't call me that," the king hisses, automatically before continuing in a much less irritated manner, "I assume it's safe to say we all heard it..." He trailed off, managing to crawl from under the sprawled uncouth man.

They stop talking for a moment, each of them straining their ears, but none hear the voice. Instead they pick up the slow cadence of gust of warm wind.

"Is it me, or is the room breathing..." The once rogue grunts as he pushes himself up.

Kilgharrah whirls around as he heard a startled yelp and is somewhat impressed at the coiling thick vines that had slithered unnoticed by them, working to close the entrance.

"Breathing and apparently trapping us here," Merlin sullenly confirms while nursing his hand and glaring at a particular retreating tendril that had whipped the appendage for being in the way.

"Who's there and why are you doing this?" Kilgharrah hears Courage shout.

The room giggled and gave no other response.

The dragon focuses once again. What little could be seen to the human eye of the corridor- antechambers he corrected himself- was cast in a blood-red magical light, each of the flames shivering and others flickering to life with each careful step taken.

Along the corridor were entrances to three other rooms, their contents remaining a mystery.

Shaking his head, the cat continued his way towards what he thought was the center of the antechamber, stopping on each stone and verifying that no breezed passed through the cracks of the next one, towards a suspiciously cracked round stone. Kilgharrah backed of a few steps and ran, bouncing on the round stone, the momentum of his jump causing the stone to bounce slightly and erecting a pillar, wedging a tablet between the round stone and the floor.

"Find something Killy?"

"Perhaps, "he said gazing upwards towards the young knight's face. "What do you see?"

"On the tablet?" he asked crossing his arms. "I see a bunch of writing I can't understand," a beat then a soft gasp, "The tablet just re-wrote itself...How the hell is that possible?"

"Are you sure you didn't imagine that?" Arthur asked joining them.

Kilgharrah respectfully acknowledged his arrival and then returns his attention to the object before his eyes.

"Can you read it young knight?"

"Read what, Kilgharrah," Merlin interrupts as he scooped the dragon off the ground and peered over Gwaine's shoulder, who was now leaning on the protruding round stone.

"Well, it basically says that if we want to continue forward, we have to find three keystones and it'll lead to our chosen destination." Gwaine trails with his fingers a triangular-shaped depression, with a round slot on each apex.

"It can't be that straightforward," Arthur sceptically remarks, reading over Gwaine's shoulder. He hummed and arches an eyebrow. "Paraphrasing, Gwaine?"

The mischievous man beams and raises his nose in the air, imitating a snooty-noble with a smug voice.

"Why read the whole cryptic text if I got the meaning right?"

Merlin huffs and humours Gwaine. A sly grin works its way on his elfin face as Arthur narrows his eyes at him suspiciously.

"I'm actually surprised you even know the word paraphrasing Arthur"

The man swivels facing the other way and hides his glower. "Shut up, Merlin"

The dragon shook his head in exasperation, how could these two where the Once and Future King and Emrys? The dragon really could help himself for worrying about the future of Albion, regardless of the encouragement he'd given the young warlock moments ago.

"Well, shall we go?" Gwaine proposed eager to move on.

* * *

**A/N: I think I have a really hard time writing Kilgharrah love the character but god! I hope this didn't feel to rushed and that the characters where still IC. The magic explanation I chose probably has nothing to do with cannon, I really just went with whatever suited me, so don't flame me for that ! Hmm...on second thought, maybe I'm dragging this too much what do you guys think?**


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